


Arc One: Bonded Pair (Book One)

by WeirdEmmaline (DeliaDestruction)



Series: Bonded [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5773168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliaDestruction/pseuds/WeirdEmmaline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are bound to each other by the Force in a slightly different Jedi Order. Twelve-year-old Obi-Wan embraces this link between them, but thirty-six-year-old Qui-Gon could not be less interested in taking on a Padawan Learner. Especially one chosen for him.<br/>Can Obi-Wan convince the rogue Knight to reconsider, or will his fate lie with another Master?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disturbance

**Author's Note:**

> Bonded is my weird lumpy baby. I got the idea late one night while watching The Empire Strikes Back, but it combines a lot of ideas I’ve had for years that I hoped I’d get to RP or that I’d be able to convince someone else to write for me. There are going to be many arcs in the Bonded saga, at least one for each year Qui-Gon trains Obi-Wan. A lot of those arcs will have more than one book in them.  
> Bonded is a full AU and will diverge pretty hard from most established canon. Their personalities will likely remain very similar to canon as I do rather adore them canonically  
> The ages are very likely different from canon. I did some age research during the development, but I (very likely) changed Qui-Gon’s age from canon to better fit my storyline.  
> In the Bonded storyline, Qui-Gon Jinn is 36 when he takes 12 year old Obi-Wan on as his Padawan Learner. I have legit no idea how old Qui-Gon is in canon when he takes Obi-Wan on as his Padawan. As I said, I did a bit of research but since this is an AU I didn’t really put too much stock in canon ages.  
> Mota is a human originally from Corellia. I’m not the best at making sure that my descriptions are any damn good (or existent to begin with) so I figure I’ll point that out.  
> Maggy is based loosely on a friend I had as a child and a bully that bothered me through middle school. They’re so vain I bet they think this saga’s about them.  
> This is legitimately the largest project I’ve ever attempted. I’ve never even considered writing the amount of words this thing will span.  
> In this AU you have until your 14th birthday to be chosen as someone’s Padawan before you’re ousted from the Temple. Fight me. 
> 
> (These are the notes through chapter six)

He knew that the extra line could not be a good thing. The strange, birthmark-like symbol on his left wrist had been the same since it had first appeared on him at age twelve, so why did it change now? _What can it possibly mean_ , Qui-Gon Jinn wondered as he ran his thumb over the new line. Part of him still hoped that, if he rubbed hard enough, he could scrub away that marking.

He’d first noticed the new line months before, but it was only now that he was to return to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant that he actually gave it any amount of thought. _This is certain to stir up talks of me taking on a Padawan,_ he thought with a heavy sigh. For nearly fifteen years he had been working on his own, pairing up with another Jedi only when a mission absolutely could not be done by a single person.

He’d resisted the call to take on a Padawan Learner since his late twenties. At least then he’d had the excuse of waiting for the Force to choose someone for him. It was rare for the Force _not_ to make a suggestion, and it was rarer still for a Jedi not to take the Initiate the Force bound them to as their Padawan Learner. The excuse had worked for him for quite a while, though Yoda still bothered him about it as often as they saw one another.

Thankfully, that wasn’t very often.

He would miss his time on Kashyyyk, however. He found the Wookiees were far more agreeable than his fellow Jedi. It wasn’t often that they questioned the way he did something, and when they did it was with good reason. He hoped to be placed on another long-term mission as quickly as possible upon his return.

He packed his things and made his way out to say goodbye to the friends he’d made over his two-year mission of peace. It was nearly the entire village and two nearby villages’ worth of Wookiees gathered to say goodbye to the Jedi.

By the time he made it to his shuttle, Qui-Gon was certain that his ribs would be sore for many months after all of the hugs he had received. He gave one last look back at the Wookiees before boarding the shuttle. Though it was forbidden by the Jedi Code, he had grown quite attached to Kashyyyk. It was his home now, just as much as Coruscant was.

By the time he was no longer in the planet’s atmosphere, he was beginning to really look forward to arriving at the Jedi Temple. It had been far too long since he’d been back. Though the Council had the unique tendency to drive him positively mad while exerting fairly little energy, there was a unique nostalgia about standing in the halls that had been his home for nearly forty years.

He found he kept glancing down at his wrist as he piloted the shuttle back to Coruscant. The new line on his mark was incredibly distracting, nearly as distracting as the mark had been when it had first appeared on his skin so many years ago.

He wondered if there would be a child waiting at the Temple for him with a hopeful glint in their eyes. He didn’t want to think about the heartbreak that would replace that hope when they learned that he would not train them. He did so hate causing others pain.

“Why now?” he wondered aloud. There was nobody else there to answer his query, and so it hung there, unanswered. _Perhaps it is nothing but a diseased mole that I’ll need to have the healers look at_ , he thought. The thought was strangely comforting.

Yes, he was certain that it would be better if his body were to revolt. The last thing he wanted was for the Force to saddle him with an apprentice.

He tried to push the thoughts from his mind, and for a while it worked. But as he drew closer to Coruscant he began to feel a strange presence in his mind. It was almost as though there were a second person there, thinking and maneuvering completely independently and yet still somehow connected to him. He groaned, knowing precisely what it was.

He wasn’t ready to break some poor child’s heart. It was a pain he knew all too well, after all. There was simply no way he could see himself training anybody though. Ever. And there wasn’t anything he could think of that would cause him to change his mind.

As he landed his shuttle and gathered his things, he began to prepare himself for what he figured was inevitable at this point. Initiates were often quite excited when their mark appeared. He was just imagining a child running out to greet him and crashing right into him.

Looking up at the Temple as it loomed ahead of him, he found himself contemplating getting back into his shuttle and going back to Kashyyyk. Surely they wouldn’t mind if he stayed on a little longer.

Surely he could put off his return to the Jedi Temple just a few more months.

 _Coward_ , he scolded himself with a small chuckle. _A Jedi mustn’t fear_.

He knew that, whatever he faced upon entering the Temple, it would not be anything more than what he could handle. The Force would guide him.

He walked quickly into the Temple, keeping his head down and his pace brisk so as to deter anyone who might wish to stop him and welcome him back. It was his mission now to keep away from the child the Force had chosen for him for as long as possible.

Once he slipped into his quarters he felt like he could breathe again. Though the mental connection had only grown stronger with every step he’d taken inside the Temple, he’d not run into the one he was connected to yet. He knew it was only a matter of time; the child had likely been groomed specifically for him.

He wasn’t looking forward to meeting someone who likely knew more about him than he did.

Everything in his quarters was precisely as he left it when he’d packed and gone to Kashyyyk so many months before. The familiarity of it all made Qui-Gon smile. He’d missed the Temple more than he’d anticipated.

As he headed into his fresher to clean himself up after his journey, he wondered just what kind of child he’d been paired with. Not that it mattered, of course. He had no intentions of training them so he wasn’t entirely sure why he was even thinking about it, but he found he was far more curious than he’d anticipated.

 _No wonder the Wookiees were so fond of me,_ he thought with a laugh as he looked at himself in the mirror. _I’ve never had such a beard before in my life!_

He ran a hand through his long, dark brown hair as he admired the beard he’d grown over the course of the mission. He wished his hair would grow a bit faster so he could tie it back to keep it out of his face. It barely touched his earlobes at its longest point, but it was still growing.

His beard was reaching a rather impressive length as it began to block his Adam’s apple from view, and he felt subsequently bereft when he was finished trimming it back to a reasonably short length.

He ran his hand through his hair one more time and froze, impressed. He had a nearly inch-wide streak of gray just behind his left ear. It was nearly completely hidden by the rest of his hair, but if he pulled his hair back just so, he could see it. He looked forward to the day that he looked as old as he felt often times.

Once he was out of the shower, he put on a fresh tunic and pair of leggings. Exiting the fresher, he flopped across his bed and sighed happily. The longer he was in his own quarters, the less he found himself thinking about the boy or girl who was (probably) anxiously waiting for him to make an appearance somewhere they could approach him.

 _Surely they cannot fault me for taking a nap before dealing with my duties,_ he thought sleepily as he nestled down into his bed. _It_ was _a long flight back from Kashyyyk_.

))((

He awoke several hours later, groggy and unpleasantly stiff-limbed. He hadn’t thought he’d fallen asleep in a very awkward position, but it _had_ been a long time since he’d last slept on a bed. It had been the floor or a hammock on Kashyyyk, with the hammock being the preferable choice.

 _This is going to take some getting used to,_ he thought.

He felt at least a decade older than his thirty-six years as he rolled over and forced himself to sit up at the edge of the bed. Every joint in his upper body popped or snapped as he leaned forward and smoothed his hair back. He found surprisingly few tangles; he’d really slept hard.

And far longer than he’d intended. He still needed to be debriefed by the Council about his mission.

He groaned as he noticed the fresh line on his mark once more. He wanted to put off leaving his quarters indefinitely, but he knew that the Council would not wait for him forever.

His hip popped loudly as he stood and stretched. He glanced down at it, impressed with the amount of sound it could make. _Perhaps I should look into getting a hammock installed,_ he thought as he headed for the door. He tried to ignore the bond that continued to grow in his mind. He couldn’t wait for that to be cut by the Council. The Initiate would likely not understand why they were being rejected, but at least Qui-Gon would be alone in his own mind once more. That was all he really wanted.

He took a deep breath before he opened the door.

It was the end of classes for the day and the habitat area was alive with the bubbly, excited energy of Initiates and Padawans playing games with their friends and enjoying their time off from their studies. The general din was strangely comforting to Qui-Gon. He found comfort in a crowd, but he desperately wanted to be alone.

Those who proclaimed to know him would insist that wasn’t the only oxymoronic thing about the young Jedi Knight, but he would deny their claims. He’d deny most things said about him, really. The Council seemed to only care about the Jedi he was on the surface. Rarely did they try to understand the depth of anything he attempted to do.

As he made his way through the crowded corridors toward the Council Chamber, he again found his mind wandering to the subject of the child that had been bound to him by the Force.

As he stepped into the elevator, he felt as if he’d been zapped by high voltage electricity. Looking to his left, he saw a boy of eleven or twelve staring up at him in awe and wonder.

There was nothing special about this boy and yet this boy was important. _Very_ important. His hair was a shade of ruddy brown that reminded Qui-Gon of one of the Wookiees he’d worked closely with on Kashyyyk. His eyes struck him to his very core. They were an icy shade of blue-green that he was almost certain couldn’t be natural, and yet here he was staring at living proof.

As he took in the boy’s face, he noticed the mark just below his right ear. It was identical to the mark that now resided on his wrist. _No wonder he’s staring,_ he thought.

“You’re… You’re Qui-Gon Jinn,” the boy managed to stammer as he stared at him, eyes wide as saucers. “You… It’s really you!”

 _This is going to be harder than I thought_ , Qui-Gon realized.


	2. Expectations

_If it wasn’t for Mota, I’d be far away from the Jedi Temple right now_ , Obi-Wan Kenobi thought as he fished his training ‘saber out from the bottom of the grand fountain. He wished his best friend were there with him.

It was his own fault it had ended up there, he knew it. Even though he hadn’t been the one to initiate the fight, he’d been the one who continued it and now he had to deal with something he hated almost as much as he hated the flight simulations they had to do every week: water. Deep water, to be precise. It was up to his waist where he stood and his ‘saber was lodged in the intake pipe.

If he was not careful, he could easily get his arm sucked into the pipe. _I’d really be in trouble then_ , he thought as he considered that fate. At just ten years old, he wasn’t a very strong swimmer. It wasn’t his fault, really. Swimming was taught cooperatively with initiates helping other initiates. Mota was never in the same group as him and they always ended up with an odd number in the pool.

Master Windu wasn’t much help, either. He’d stand at the edge of the pool and bark a few orders at them, then retreat and watch as they attempted to follow through.

Obi-Wan often found himself hovering near the edge of the pool. That was what he desperately wished he was doing then.

He could feel the eyes of Maggy Strump and her gang of friends burning holes in his back as he tried to figure out what he could do. He wasn’t focused enough with the Force yet, so he knew he’d never manage to pull it up with the Force. But he also knew that if his head went under the water, bad things could happen.

Jedi weren’t supposed to be malicious, but something told him that Maggy never quite learned that lesson. It was Maggy who had thrown his ‘saber into the fountain and Maggy who had made sure that it lodged in the intake pipe. If he drowned that day, he was certain it would be Maggy’s doing.

And yet he still couldn’t help but feel that he was at fault for the situation he found himself in. _If I tried harder_ , he thought, _if I worked even harder and showed them that I do deserve to be here, maybe they wouldn’t pick on me._

He tried so hard to do as Yoda had instructed him so many times and release his anger as quickly as it bubbled up inside of him, but there were still times he tried to retaliate against Maggy and her friends.

It was times like those that he found himself in his current situation.

 _Well_ , he thought. _Staring at it isn’t going to get it unstuck._

He cast one last uncertain glance back toward the bully— his bully— before he took a deep breath and plunged himself underwater. He reached for his ‘saber but only managed to brush his fingers against it. He kicked and thrashed— the only real swimming he knew how to do successfully— until he could wrap his hand around the handle.

His lungs were beginning to burn from lack of oxygen as he began to pull at the lightsaber. At first it wouldn’t budge and he could feel panic beginning to bubble up inside of him. He knew if he let go of the ‘saber now, there was a good chance it would be sucked up by the intake pipe and badly damage the fountain.

And he’d be the one blamed.

He wished he’d taken a deeper breath before making this attempt. He yanked and pulled at it, but it wouldn’t budge. His lungs were screaming for air. His brain was screaming for oxygen. It wouldn’t be long before he blacked out.

Above the surface of the water, he could hear Maggy laughing at him with her friends.

 _Focus_ , he could almost hear Yoda speaking to him then. _Focus. Feel, you must. Think, do not. Your instincts you must trust._

He exhaled and relaxed, allowing his ‘saber to slip further through the grates before pulling hard and finally freeing it from the grate. He pushed himself up to the surface, coughing and sputtering as he crawled to the edge of the fountain.

The grin on Maggy’s freckled face faded as she realized he’d retrieved the ‘saber. Though Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to rest, he figured it was best to get as far from Maggy as he possibly could.

A casual glance at the ‘saber told him that, while it wouldn’t work _now_ , it wasn’t completely ruined. If it was allowed to dry out it’d probably work just fine. He hoped that would be the case.

He nearly made it to his quarters before being tackled and having his face rubbed into the carpet. He was by no means a small boy, but Maggy was already nearing two meters tall and nearly pure muscle. He didn’t stand a chance.

“You tell _any_ of the Masters what happened to your ‘saber and I’ll make sure you waste away in the Outer Rim forever,” Maggy hissed as she punched him in the back of the head. The blow struck him dizzy, and even after she and her friends left he found it near impossible to stand.

It was only when Mota happened upon him as everyone was rushing downstairs for dinner that he actually managed to get off the floor. The left side of his face was raw and red from being rubbed against the floor so violently and he could feel that at least one of his ribs was bruised.

Ten years old and he knew what bruised ribs felt like. Even the Council felt for him there. The healers alerted the Council every time the boy required patching up, but there wasn’t much to be done unless she did something outright to endanger his life.

So far, while malicious, her actions had been relatively harmless. It didn’t mean that what she did didn’t hurt, but it did mean that Obi-Wan was learning an important lesson about how the galaxy worked.

The Masters called it self-sufficiency. Obi-Wan called it being rejected by the only life he’d ever known.

“You should tell the Masters,” Mota said quietly as she helped Obi-Wan dust himself off. She cringed as she looked at the raw sores on his cheek and forehead from the rug burn. “She can’t keep doing this to you. How can they still think she’d make a reasonable Jedi? She’s far too aggressive.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “It won’t do any good,” he said. “I am thinking about going before the Council, though.”

Mota cocked her head curiously before realization set in. Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

“No. No way. I won’t let you throw away your shot, Kenobi. You’ve been working towards being a Jedi since you were born! You’re not a flop like me.”

“Just because you were discovered at age four doesn’t mean you’re a flop, Mota,” Obi-Wan sighed. “You’ve got it made. The Masters love you and you don’t have someone like Maggy working to make your life rotten.”

She pulled him into a tight hug.

“Things will turn around for you soon. Maggy will age out in just two more years if she’s not picked up as a Padawan. We’ve still got four whole years. Things will get better, Obi-Wan.” As she pulled back to look at him, she ran a hand through his still damp hair and laughed. “Besides, she’s just jealous that you’ve got nicer red hair than she does.”

“It is rather soft and luxurious, isn’t it?” he asked in a monotone that made her snort with laughter.

He managed a brave smile for her. He prided himself for his ability to pull off a convincing smile even when he felt the exact opposite of anything that would make someone smile. Mota shook her head sadly and pulled him into another hug.

“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s go get some food before there’s none left.”

Obi-Wan nodded and followed his friend back down to the cafeteria.

))((

It wasn’t until nearly curfew that Obi-Wan finally made it back to his quarters. He was exhausted, but happy. He’d played intelligence-building games with Mota for nearly four hours after dinner. He walked into his quarters feeling quite exhausted and more hopeful for the future than he had in many, many weeks.

As he cleaned up before bed, he noticed a strange splotch on his neck. It wasn’t going away no matter how hard he scrubbed, so he just wrapped it with a bit of cotton before changing into his nightclothes and collapsing into his bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

He awoke shortly before his normal wake up time the next morning and sleepily made his way into the fresher.

When he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, he dropped his toothbrush. What he’d mistaken for a stubborn dirt spot was not dirt at all. It was a mark. The Force had chosen a Master for him.

His breath caught in his chest as the realization sank in. It wasn’t often that the Force chose for someone at such a young age. Twelve or thirteen was far more common.

In his excitement he barely managed to clean and dress himself before he ran out to locate one of the Masters. Certainly this would be worthy of praise.

He’d never seen a marking quite like the one on his neck before, but he was certain it was a Force-bond marking, just like the older Initiates had been getting. He’d only seen one of theirs and it had resembled a tiny cityscape similar to the view from the south side of the Temple.

He only remembered that because both Padawan and Master had turned up dead shortly thereafter. He wished he could remember their names. It had been his first real dealing with death.

When he left his quarters, he could feel the eyes of every Jedi he passed staring at the new marking on his neck. For once in his life, he felt properly special.

He hastily made his way to the meditation room where he knew he would likely find Master Yoda. When he wasn’t teaching the younglings, Master Yoda kept to himself and meditated for much of his time, though he was always willing to stop and speak to a visitor.

Obi-Wan approached, feeling Yoda’s presence inside the room. He touched the door chime and waited nervously as the Master acknowledged his request for a moment of his time.

The door slid open, revealing a darkened room. Obi-Wan blinked hard as he stepped inside, the door hissing shut behind him. Without the light streaming in from the corridor, it was nearly pitch black inside the meditation room. Obi-Wan made his way over to a cushion positioned across from where Master Yoda sat and made himself comfortable before addressing him.

“Master Yoda, I am deeply sorry to disturb you, but I’ve noticed something this morning,” he said, planning his every word carefully as he tried to choke back his enthusiasm.

Yoda, of course, is well aware of the boy’s enthusiasm. He uses the Force to bring up the lights.

“Something to show me, have you, hmm?” he asked. Obi-Wan nodded exuberantly.

“Come closer,” Yoda said. “As good as they once were, my eyes no longer are.”

Obi-Wan stood and dutifully did as he was told. He crossed the room and over, exposing the freshly marked spot on his neck. He didn’t have to see the Master’s face to know that he was smiling.

“A great gift from the Force, this is. Young still you are, and a powerful Jedi Knight, chosen for you has been.”

“You know the Knight who bears my marking’s twin?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Indeed I do, young Kenobi. Qui-Gon Jinn, his name is. On a long-term mission to Kashyyyk, he is. For a long time he will not return, but do not be disheartened. A great gift still, this is. Upon his return, consider you he will.”

“When will he be back, Master Yoda?” Obi-Wan didn’t want to sound impatient, but the question would’ve eaten away at him forever if he didn’t ask.

“A year from now. Two, perhaps.”

Obi-Wan’s heart sank, but he wasn’t going to let it get him down. The Force had chosen a Master for him and he was going to dedicate all of his free time to learning everything and anything he could about Qui-Gon Jinn.

He bowed and thanked Yoda for seeing him before hurrying out of the meditation room. He had to get to the library. He—

—Ran headlong into Maggy and two of her closest cronies, Yel Reynib and Boosh Felix. All four initiates sprawled across the corridor in a loud succession of thuds and crashes.

Before she was even on her feet again, Maggy had her training ‘saber drawn and activated, its purple blade casting an eerie glow on the initiates.

She opened her mouth to say something to Obi-Wan, but that was the exact moment she noticed the new mark on his neck. The indignation at having been knocked to the ground turned to outright rage.

“ _You_!” she shrieked. “You’ve been chosen? That’s impossible, you’re too young!”

“I didn’t— I—” Obi-Wan’s tongue stumbled over the words he wanted to say as his brain sped on faster than he could articulate.

“Enough!” Yoda’s voice was small but authoritative as he exited the meditation room. Maggy deactivated her lightsaber quickly and helped Boosh to her feet. “Happen, accidents will. Apologize, forgive, and move on, we must. Dwell on minor inconveniences, we must not.”

“Yes, Master Yoda,” Maggy mumbled in unison with the others, who spoke much more loudly and clearly. Yoda looked at them thoughtfully before turning and heading toward the Council Chamber. It must’ve been time for the Council’s daily meeting.

Obi-Wan turned to head for the library when Boosh grabbed him by the arm. Maggy stepped out in front of him.

“Yoda won’t always be nearby to protect you, Obi-Wan, and that mark doesn’t mean anything. You’re still too young to be taken on as a Padawan.”

“At least I’ve got a mark,” Obi-Wan replied, regretting the words the second they fell from his tongue. “You’re probably going to age out and have to become a healer.”

He didn’t see her fist coming as it rapidly approached his face, but he would feel it for several days after as he attempted to watch various holograms about Qui-Gon Jinn in the library with one eye swelled shut. His face hurt long after the swelling finally went down, but he felt it was worth it. He’d managed to elicit an emotional response using nothing but emotionless words.

At least, _he_ thought them emotionless.

He hoped that Qui-Gon would return to the Temple before Maggy was chosen by a Master. He knew it was wrong to want something out of spite, but he couldn’t help imagining how good it would feel to see her fuming about him having something better than her. In this case, him being on the way to becoming a Jedi while she would continue to be stuck at the Temple, her time tick, tick, ticking away.

))((

Four days after his twelfth birthday, the news of Qui-Gon Jinn’s return to the Jedi Temple began to spread amongst the initiates. Many who shared the news while within earshot of Obi-Wan would also turn to stare at him expectantly, as though he were supposed to begin jumping for joy or something.

If he was to be perfectly honest with himself, he was terrified. He’d learned everything he could about the man, but very little was recorded about his personality. He was incredibly attuned to the Living Force, but there was nothing to say whether or not he was friendly.

Whether or not he liked kids or even believed in the Force mark system as a way to choose one’s Padawan.

He saw only one way to appropriately deal with the anxiety that clawed at him, and that was through meditation. It was very rare that his questions were met with real, thoughtful advice when he found himself dealing with a problem such as this. Meditation was quicker and didn’t require him to admit he was weak to one of the Masters.

He was on his way back to his quarters to spend some time alone when he felt it, a strange intrusion on his thoughts. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant or unwelcome. The presence, in fact, was quite soothing. He didn’t quite know what the presence was, but he welcomed it.

It grew stronger as the day wore on, and eventually he realized what it could be. _A training bond_ , he thought _. The Force is bonding me with Qui-Gon Jinn!_

He was all-too-aware when Qui-Gon’s shuttle landed, but he managed to keep to himself and stay in his quarters. He knew that the man would need time alone after such a long mission. There was much to rediscover about the Temple, he was sure.

But knowing that his Master— the man who could become his Master— was there somewhere in the Temple was almost too much for Obi-Wan. He was bursting at the seams with both excitement and anxiety. Oh how he wanted to find the Knight and end the agonizing wait.

He finally forced himself to go for a walk to burn off some of the anxious energy that was building up within him.

 _Just a quick walk_ , he thought _, just a quick walk and then I’ll go and finish my meditation. And_ then _I’ll go and find Qui-Gon._

He got in the elevator nearest his quarters to head down to one of the lower levels for his walk.

Four levels down from where he’d gotten on, the elevator doors opened again. Obi-Wan’s heart jumped up into his throat and his eyes widened as Qui-Gon Jinn stepped onboard.

He stared up at the man in awe. He noticed the mark exposed on his wrist, just below the end of his sleeve. He could’ve cried then for the confirmation that Qui-Gon was meant to be his Master.

That was when the Knight turned and looked down at the Initiate, his steely blue eyes fierce yet tinged with an overwhelming kindness. Obi-Wan swallowed hard.

“You’re— You’re Qui-Gon Jinn!” he exclaimed, his tongue tripping over the words. “You… It’s really you!”


	3. Uncertainty

_At least this will save me an audience with the Council,_ Qui-Gon thought.

The boy was still looking up at him expectantly. He didn’t want to say anything, knowing that anything he _did_ say would likely break the boy’s heart.

“I am on my way to see the Council,” he said after carefully considering his words. They exited the elevator together, the boy staring at him all the while. “We shall discuss our situation with the Council now as well.”

The boy’s eyes widened and Qui-Gon knew he’d gotten the wrong idea. The child’s pain would hurt, but it wasn’t worth taking the boy as his Padawan Learner simply to avoid hurt feelings.

They waited outside the Council Chamber in silence. Qui-Gon was thankful that the boy was not one of the overly excited ones he’d seen some of his friends saddle themselves with. Were he to take on a Padawan, he imagined he would go for one like this boy.

“What is your name?” he asked the boy that stood beside him.

“I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the boy replied immediately. “I’ve done a lot of reading about you, Master Qui-Gon. You’re the greatest swordsman alive, aside from Master Y-Yoda, of course.”

Qui-Gon watched as the boy shrank into himself a bit, as though embarrassed for speaking. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the boy in the past to make him so nervous.

 _It’s not my concern,_ he reminded himself. He put as much distance between himself and the boy as he could.

As the door hissed open, Qui-Gon strode confidently into the Chamber, followed by Obi-Wan’s nervous, clumsy gait. The Knight sighed as the boy tripped over his own feet and landed sprawled across the floor near his feet. _There’s no way I could train this boy_.

While Qui-Gon addressed the Council, Obi-Wan picked himself up and brushed himself off before standing to Qui-Gon’s right, slightly behind him. He was fixated on the Knight as he spoke.

“I believe I was able to build a strong bond of trust with the Wookiees during my extended stay on Kashyyyk…” he began, purposely ignoring the way that the Masters gawked at the boy who stood behind him. It wouldn’t be long and he would shut down the speculation. He was not taking a Padawan Learner.

“And of this boy what have you to say, Qui-Gon?” Yoda asked after a long pause. Qui-Gon put his hands on his hips.

“The Force has formed a bond between myself and this boy,” Qui-Gon began. He felt that hope and anticipation bubbling up inside Obi-Wan again. “But I do not accept the bond. I do not take Obi-Wan Kenobi as my Padawan Learner.”

He sighed deeply as he felt the boy’s heart break. He knew just how difficult it was to maintain one’s composure in the face of such devastation, but his resolve was firm.

Just as firm as Master Typhos’ had been so many years ago.

 _I’m nothing like him,_ he scolded himself. _Typhos did not want to train me because he was old and sick. I work better alone. I should not be held responsible for the life of a child._

“Certain of this, are you?” Yoda asked. Qui-Gon nodded once.

“I release the claim on this boy that the Force has made on my behalf,” he replied.

“A decision such as this cannot be made lightly,” Adi Gallia said.

“It is not a decision I take lightly. My life is one of far too much danger. The boy would not be safe with me.”

“Hmm. Perilous, the life of a Jedi is. Teach young Kenobi by example, you could. The joys and sorrows of the universe, show him.”

“I am not a good candidate for this particular mission, Masters. With all due respect, my answer remains, no.”

“On that you are correct,” Ki Adi Mundi said as he stroked his beard. “The Force has revealed you as the _best_ candidate for this mission.”

“It is the will of the Force,” Mace Windu added. Qui-Gon could not believe what he was hearing. He’d never once heard of a Knight or Master having this much trouble rejecting a Force-bound Padawan.

“Please, Master Jinn?” The boy’s voice was tiny, barely a whisper, as it reached Qui-Gon’s ear. He glanced down at the boy and could see tears welling in his eyes. He shook his head.

“My decision stands,” he said, his voice firm. “I am sorry, Obi-Wan.” For a long moment, the Council Chamber was silence. Then Yoda leaned forward in his seat.

“Think on this you must, Qui-Gon. Accept your decision at this time, we cannot.” Qui-Gon stared at him, confused.

“It is pointless to force me to wait to make my decision, Masters. With all due respect, I’ve had plenty of time to consider this. I do not wish to take a Padawan Learner at this time.”

“In one week’s time, reconvene on this matter, we will. If the same your decision is, accept it we will at that time.”

Qui-Gon turns on his heel and stomps out of the Chamber, unable to hide his frustration as he hurries off to find a quiet spot to meditate and calm himself.

In the end he found himself in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. There were a few others there as well, but he found their presence strangely calming. They knew nothing of his troubles.

He found himself a secluded corner, knelt, and began to calm his mind.


	4. A Glimmer of Hope

Obi-Wan inhaled sharply as he was left alone with the Council. He could feel them all staring at him. He wished they wouldn’t stare. He wanted to cry. He wanted to throw a tantrum. He wanted to act like the child he still was, but he knew that wasn’t how a Jedi should act. He chided himself for wanting to react.

He looked helplessly from Master to Master, unsure what he was supposed to do. Neither he nor Qui-Gon had been dismissed and he knew that if he just stormed off now he’d be scolded quite sternly later, but none of the Masters were saying anything. They just watched him.

He was positively heartbroken. For two years of his life he’d spent countless hours each week studying what little information there was available about the Knight. There were entire holograms that he’d memorized in their entirety. He had even perfected his impression of the man’s voice.

At least, he thought he had. The man spoke far more gruffly in real life. He’d never expected him to be so rough and rude. He hadn’t even dreamed that the man might reject him, but now that he _had_ , Obi-Wan’s mind was buzzing with possible reasons. By the time Yoda opened his mouth to speak, Obi-Wan had torn himself up in his own mind far more savagely than Maggy— or anyone else in his life— ever had.

“Convince him of your worth, you must, Obi-Wan.” Yoda’s words startled him. He’d been so deep in thought he’d almost forgotten where he was.

“All hope is not yet lost,” Windu added, leaning forward in his chair. “Jinn is young and will be easily swayed.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped by Adi Gallia.

“Qui-Gon is a fool if he discounts the bond already growing between the two of you,” she said, shooting him a stern look. “Be mindful of your thoughts, Obi-Wan. Self-deprecation will only lead you down a path you do not wish to follow.”

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master,” Obi-Wan replied quickly. “But… I don’t even know where to begin! I cannot convince him I’m worth training in just a week.”

“Trust in the Force, you must,” Gallia said, folding her arms across her chest.

“May the Force be with you,” Windu said, dismissing him. Obi-Wan bowed before turning and hurrying out of the Chamber. The corridors seemed darker somehow. The whole Temple seemed sadder, or was that just him?

He rubbed his neck absently as he wandered aimlessly through the Temple, unsure of what to do next. He’d been so certain that he would become Qui-Gon’s Padawan that morning. Now that he _hadn’t_ , he didn’t know what to do with him.

He decided to go to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He was almost certain he’d find Mota there. Even if he didn’t, he’d welcome the alone time in the peaceful area.

There are already other initiates whispering rumors of his fate as he passed them in the corridors. News and rumors travelled fast in the Jedi Temple. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Right now, Obi-Wan felt pretty well cursed.

As he stepped into the Room of a Thousand Fountains, he heard someone calling for him. _Maggy_ , he thought with a sigh. _What could she possibly want?_

“Obi-Wan, good! I was hoping I’d get to see you. I heard Master Qui-Gon rejected you,” she said in a mock-upset voice as she approached him. Though her voice sounded sincere, her lips bore a devilish smirk. “That’s gotta be rough. Do you need a hug?”

“Get away from me,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I’m not in the mood for your games today, Maggy.”

“That’s too bad for you,” she said. “Because I’m having fun, Dopey-One.” She laughed at her own horrible punning of his name. Obi-Wan sighed and avoided looking at her. “A Master hasn’t rejected a bonded Initiate in more than a decade, Dopey. You should feel special. Do you feel special?”

There were tears welling in Obi-Wan’s eyes now, stinging as he struggled to hold them in. Maggy’s grin grew wider as she watched his emotional shields crumble. She stood there a few moments longer, admiring her work, before pushing past him.

Once he was certain she had left the room, Obi-Wan wiped his eyes with his sleeve and trekked further into the room, hoping being in such a peaceful place would help bring him peace.

So far, it wasn’t working.

He blinked back the tears that wouldn’t stop coming as he continued further and further into the room. He almost wished he could get lost in there, but he knew _that_ was an impossibility.

As he finally settled on a spot near the waterfall, he realized he recognized one of the presences he felt in the room with him. He groaned in dismay as he realized it was Qui-Gon.

 _Of course_ , he thought. _The only reason I came here was because of him._

It was then that the tears came. They flowed relentlessly down his cheeks as he sat by the water.

He was grateful that nobody came upon him as he wept there by the waterfall. It was a most dreadfully embarrassing affair when he was discovered emoting, _especially_ when he was crying. All his life he’d been too much and now…

Now he was too little. He didn’t know what it was about him that came up short in Qui-Gon Jinn’s eyes, but he knew there had to be something. Something about him had displeased the Knight and now Obi-Wan would have to suffer the pain of rejection and losing that strange new bond that had just begun to properly form in his mind.

It took a long time, but finally the tears slowed and he was able to get himself under control again. He looked around to make certain that nobody had been watching him, but found no such prying eyes. Even Qui-Gon’s presence had remained at the far end of the room.

Obi-Wan crawled over to the water and splashed his face to help bring down the swelling from the frustrated tears he’d just shed. He glanced down at his reflection and instantly wished he hadn’t. He looked positively awful.

His hands were shaking as he worked to mess his hair up the way it normally sat on his head and he frantically rubbed cool water under his eyes. Though the cool water felt wonderful against his dry, irritated skin, it did precious little to hide the fact that he’d just been crying.

He decides to give up and just retreat to the solitude of his quarters for the evening then, knowing full well that there were more tears on the way. At least if he hid in his quarters he wouldn’t risk being stumbled upon by a Master or by Qui-Gon or Mota.

The more distance he put between himself and Qui-Gon Jinn, the better. His presence was only serving to foul the boy’s mood. He knew better than to dwell on things that he could not change, but he was struggling with this latest kick to the ribs from life.

 _Trust in the Force_ , he thought, rubbing the mark on his neck. _Always trust in the Force. Well, what if the Force doesn’t want what’s best for me?_

“Obi-Wan!” The shrill, excited cry pulled him out of his thoughts just in time to see his best friend racing toward him in a flash of grey and black robes and blue-black hair. Before he could protest, her arms were around him, hugging him tightly.

“I’ve got wonderful news, Obi-Wan!” she cried happily as she pulled away from him. She didn’t notice his puffy, bloodshot eyes or the way his lower lip quivered uncontrollably. She pulled down her tunic ever so slightly to reveal a smooth, circular mark just below her left collarbone. “Master Adi Gallia bears my mark’s twin. She’s already accepted me as her Padawan! We’re leaving on my very first mission tomorrow morning! Oh, Obi-Wan I’m so excited! Have you met Qui-Gon yet? I heard he’s back at the Temple! Oh, you must be so excited!”

“That’s… That’s fantastic, Mota!” he exclaimed. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes again as she continued to babble enthusiastically at him.

Obi-Wan managed to feign a smile as he nodded and quietly agreed with anything she said. He couldn’t bear to bring her down when she was so happy. Perhaps when she returned from her mission he would tell her the bad news.

“I’ve still got so much to do, so much to pack! Oh, I’ve got to move quarters before we leave tonight! Obi-Wan, I’m gonna miss you! I promise we’ll talk for a long, long time when I get back, okay?”

Before he could actually form even a single coherent sentence in response, Mota was off running again and Obi-Wan was alone.


	5. Gentle Coercion

Try though he might, Qui-Gon could not quiet his mind enough to slip into the meditative trance he longed for. Whenever he closed his eyes and tried to let go, Obi-Wan’s heartbroken eyes appeared in his mind. It wasn’t guilt he felt, but it was close.

 _The boy must learn about rejection early_ , he thought, shaking his head as though it would help to clear his mind. _It builds character._

Those thoughts did little to ease the guilt-like feelings that crept into the corners of his mind as he calmed himself and slowed his breathing. Neither did Obi-Wan’s sudden intrusion into the calm space of the large room. Qui-Gon could feel his heartbreak and frustration as clearly as though they were his own emotions.

Shortly after the boy entered the Room of a Thousand Fountains, Qui-Gon heard another person approach him. Though he was nowhere near the door, Qui-Gon heard every part of the encounter as though he were standing beside Obi-Wan as it occurred. He found himself feeling sorry for the boy as the older initiate teased him and attempted to goad him into lashing out.

He was a bit surprised at the swell of pride he felt in his chest at the boy’s refusal to retaliate against the bully. _He will make a fine apprentice for someone one day,_ he thought as the boy continued to ignore the girl’s obvious attempts at coercing him into a fight.

The boy took off running, thankfully in the opposite direction from where Qui-Gon had settled in. He wasn’t very good at blocking off that temporary bond between them. Qui-Gon bore the brunt of the boy’s silent sobbing, though he was certain the boy had no idea how much he was projecting. The Force-bond was still very new to him.

He felt that strange not-guilt emotion hastily evolving into guilt. He was surprised at the speed with which it changed. He wondered if Master Typhos had ever felt so guilty, but he assumed not. The Council had agreed to sever his bond with Qui-Gon nearly as soon as the words had fallen from the Master’s mouth and he hadn’t had to deal with the fallout of his decision. 

Many on the Council had been on the Council when Qui-Gon was an initiate. Surely they remembered his pain.

 _Surely you remember your pain_ , he reminded himself, then shook his head again. He refused to change his mind on the subject. He was too accustomed to doing things his own way and on his own.

He gave up on meditating at about the same time he felt Obi-Wan deciding to relocate to his quarters.

 _Good_ , he thought. _There’ll be some distance between us. The distance will do us both good._

He waited until Obi-Wan had gone before he got up to leave. As he approached the door, he realized he’d waited too long. Mace Windu was rapidly approaching and Qui-Gon could tell he intended to speak with him.

“Oh good,” Windu said as the door hissed open and he caught sight of Qui-Gon attempting to retreat into the depths of the room to avoid him. “I wanted to speak with you, Qui-Gon.”

The Knight sighed and smoothed his hair back before asking, “What is on your mind, Master Windu?”

Windu gestured to a pair of rocks near the base of the waterfall, refusing to speak again until they began moving so they could go and sit down.

“Taking on a Padawan Learner can be a rather daunting task, believe me, I completely understand. It took me many months to come to terms with the fact that the Force had chosen me to train someone. The whole thing felt so inorganic—”

“With all due respect, that is not why I do not wish to take Kenobi on as my Padawan Learner. I simply do not wish to take a Padawan Learner,” Qui-Gon said, cutting the Master off. Luckily for Qui-Gon, Mace Windu looked far more amused than angry at his insubordination.

“I would pose that you are not being fair to the boy simply because you fancy this lone wolf persona you think you’ve crafted for yourself. You’re not fooling anybody, Qui-Gon. You’re afraid.”

“I fear nothing, Master Windu,” Qui-Gon replied. “Not even death.” Windu smirked.

“I think you’ve fooled yourself into thinking that, Qui-Gon. But late at night when you’re alone with your thoughts, you wonder what will happen once you’re gone. You wonder if anyone will remember you. There’s an easy way to ensure that you leave a lasting legacy.”

“I’m not going to train the boy.”

“Qui-Gon—”

“Master Windu, it is not a requirement of every Jedi to take an apprentice. I have little interest in the whole idea of sharing so much of my life with a child. I work better alone.”

“You don’t think you will make a good teacher. I, respectfully, disagree. I think you have a whole host of friends beyond these Temple walls that would agree with me. Perhaps you should seek some of their advice on the matter?”

“I hadn’t planned to—”

“I think you should plan to, Qui-Gon. It is not only your future at stake here.”

Qui-Gon glared at the Master but said nothing more, knowing his place. He wasn’t a Jedi Master, not yet anyway. He needed to learn when to hold his tongue.

“I am sure you can think of someone you trust,” Windu continued as he stood up. Qui-Gon stood as well. He knew a few people he could consult, but only one person whose opinion would matter.

Finding him, however, would prove difficult.

))((

He simply took a shuttle this time, knowing that it would be counterproductive in this instance to tell the Temple where precisely it was that he was going.

It didn’t help that he wasn’t even precisely certain as to where he was going. Count Dooku had disappeared many years prior, shortly after Qui-Gon completed his training. He hadn’t been seen or heard from since, though Qui-Gon knew that he would be able to find him if he really put his mind to it.

If there was any time to put his mind to it, it was now. His old Master may have fallen to the dark side but he was still Qui-Gon’s most trusted friend.

Even if he hadn’t seen him in more than a decade.

Even if there was a good chance he might try to kill him.

He had a feeling about where Dooku was hiding. He knew the man was in hiding because his whereabouts were tracked fiercely by the Temple and right now he was simply assumed dead because he had not been spotted in nearly five years.

But Qui-Gon was pretty sure he knew where he would find the fallen Jedi. He’d been paired with the man for nearly fifteen years, he would think himself rather dim-witted if he hadn’t figured out the kinds of haunts the old Master would have.

Though his information about the man was rather dated, and there always _was_ the distinct possibility that the Temple’s intelligence reports were correct in their assumptions that he had perished. Qui-Gon was certain he would’ve felt Dooku’s death, however. He refused to believe that the man might be dead.

He only needed to go about halfway around Coruscant to reach the most likely place he would find his former Master. He almost hoped he wouldn’t find the man there. If he could leave Coruscant, perhaps he could stay away until after the week was up. Maybe he could even force the Council to take his dismissal of the boy seriously.

He knew that wasn’t right, however, and he dismissed the idea as soon as it had come to him.

He landed outside of a seedy bar Dooku had frequented when they’d still been in contact. He hoped that his Master’s proclivity to ruin his liver by drinking hard liquors had not gone the way of so many of his other old habits.

He took a deep breath as he pushed open the door to the bar. The inside was just as dank and depressing as he remembered.

He stepped cautiously inside, sensing the immediate distrust of the patrons who could tell he was a Jedi. Some were blissfully unaware, others were too drunk to care.

One particular man, who sat at the end of the bar with a wall of empty glasses surrounding him, didn’t seem to notice Qui-Gon’s entrance at all. Of course, that was if one was looking with the eyes of a non-Jedi. Qui-Gon saw the man tense as he approached. He could feel the man pulling into himself through the Force.

Qui-Gon sat down two bar stools down from the man and cast a sidelong glance in his direction.

His Master had aged quite a lot and quite poorly since he’d last seen him.

When the droid behind the bar made its way down to him, Qui-Gon ordered a glass of wine imported from Malastare. It was a vintage he remembered quite well. It was one that he’d drunk quite a lot when he’d frequented this bar with his former Master.

“I was wondering if I’d find you here,” Qui-Gon said after he took an initial, tentative sip of his wine. The aging fallen Jedi said nothing and kept his gaze straight ahead at the wall of glasses he’d made for himself. The young Knight wondered if his former Master could even stand of his own volition.

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again. After my— ahem— fall from grace, I suspected that you, like the other Jedi, would wish to distance yourself from me a much as possible.”

Qui-Gon looked down at his drink thoughtfully for a long moment before glancing back over at Dooku. He wasn’t surprised in the least to find the older man watching him expectantly.

“I had considered searching you out more than once, Master,” Qui-Gon said finally. “I haven’t had a good enough reason until now.” He could tell he had his former Master’s interest piqued then and he took full advantage of that as he took a long, slow sip of his wine.

“I notice you haven’t got a Padawan dogging your steps, Qui-Gon. Still fighting the old Jedi traditions with every breath you take?”

“Some things never change, Master.” Something about calling the fallen Jedi ‘Master’ felt positively wrong, but Qui-Gon couldn’t help himself. It was ingrained in him and as natural as his casual use of the Force.

It seemed to amuse Dooku as well, which was an unintended bonus, really. His reaction to the title did lighten Qui-Gon’s mood.

“So what is this pressing matter that has brought you back to me after all these years?” Dooku asked finally, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“What made you pick me, all those years ago?” Qui-Gon asked. Dooku took a long, slow sip from the drink that sat in front of him, avoiding the younger man’s gaze as he did.

“What sort of question is that to ask now?” he asked.

“A valid one, I’d think,” Qui-Gon said. “When I asked you as a child, you said you’d explain when I was older. Well, I’m older.”

“So you are,” Dooku chuckled. He didn’t offer up the information Qui-Gon was searching for, however.

“I am loathe to rush you, Master, but time _is_ of the essence.”

“Oh? Perhaps if you were to enlighten me…”

Qui-Gon sighed, moved one bar stool down, and raised his left arm. He pulled back his sleeve to reveal the mark that had been on his wrist for twenty odd years and Dooku laughed more heartily than before.

“Delightful. The stubborn loner has been chosen by the Force. And you’re wondering why I chose you over the one the Force chose for me?”

“I’m wondering why I should take a Padawan to begin with. The Council is being unfair. They agreed immediately when it was I who was being abandoned, but now I’ve got to wait and think on it for a week. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“I can’t say I blame you, Qui-Gon. The teachings of the Jedi Order are stale. The Order is dying. The more Knights and Masters who refuse to take on a Padawan Learner, the better.”

“What did you say?”

“You must sense it, Qui-Gon. The Jedi Order has become obsolete. It is why many refuse to take on Padawan Learners of their own, why they have since I was but your age.

“The child the Force would have bound me to was strong with the Force but weak of body. She would never have become even half the Knight that you showed the potential to become.” Dooku laughed darkly as he finished what he wanted to say and turned his attention back to his drink.

Qui-Gon stared at his former Master, shocked to know the truth.

“I was a grab for power?” he asked. Dooku’s only response was a smile.

 

 

 


	6. Willpower

Early the next morning, Obi-Wan resolved to see his best friend— his _only_ friend— off on the adventure he had fully expected would be his own. He woke early and dressed quickly, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. He washed his face and ran a hand through his hair to straighten it out before leaving his quarters and heading down to the landing platform.

Mota hadn’t told him quite when she would be leaving, just that it would be in the morning. He suspected she hadn’t left yet when he arrived. There was only one other Jedi on the landing platform at that time, and that was Master Windu. He was inspecting an aging shuttlecraft that had recently been donated to the Order.

Obi-Wan hoped that he wouldn’t be noticed, but there seemed to be little chance of that happening this week.

Windu looked up and smiled at Obi-Wan, walking over to greet him as soon as he stepped onto the platform. Obi-Wan sighed painfully as he bowed his greeting to the Master.

“I see you heard the news about Mota Greenwood,” Master Windu said. “I understand you two have been close friends.” Obi-Wan nodded.

“I thought she might like it if I came to see her off,” he replied. The Master smiled. Obi-Wan forced himself to smile as well, but he knew the expression did not look genuine.

Windu returned to his inspection of the shuttlecraft as Mota came running down the landing platform. She tackled Obi-Wan, sending both of them sprawling across the floor in a fit of giggles. _Now_ Obi-Wan’s smile was genuine, if only for a moment. He would miss moments like these.

When she realized that Master Windu was so near, Mota quickly stood up and helped her friend up as well before bowing apologetically. Windu merely smiled and shook his head as he concluded his inspection.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come down here so early! Aw, Obi-Wan, you’re gonna make me cry!” Mota hugged her friend once more and Obi-Wan inhaled sharply as he fought back the tears that threatened his eyes. He would not cry in front of his friend, not now. He would not make her feel guilty about leaving with her new Master.

He _couldn’t_.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t crack. He was relieved that it didn’t, but the sad sort of smile that played on her lips as she nodded hurt his heart. Oh how he would miss her!

He drew her into a tight, protective embrace. “The Force will be with you, Mota.”

He was surprised at how much his words comforted both of them.

As Master Adi Gallia stepped out onto the landing platform, Mota got on her tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek.

“May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan,” she whispered, cupping the cheek she’d just kissed with her hand and looking into his eyes. That was the first time he noticed the honey-brown color of hers.

The moment ended and Mota turned to join her Master. As she boarded the shuttle that would take her on her very first mission, she cast one last wistful look over her shoulder at Obi-Wan.

He forced a brave smile for her, though inside he felt like he was dying.

He watched as they took off, watched as their shuttle grew smaller and smaller until it was just a speck against the purple and orange sky at sunrise. What’s left of his heart feels like it’s shattered.

 _How am I still whole when I feel so empty?_ He felt as though someone had punched a hole through his chest, leaving an open, gaping wound that refused to heal and refused to kill him.

He wished he could just feel the strange numbness that had plagued him through the night. Sleep had come in fitful bursts, though it had been blessedly dreamless.

With Mota gone, the pain felt fresh and new and unrelenting.

He debated his next course of action. It was still far too early in the morning to consider breakfast; it wouldn’t be served for another three hours yet. He could go back to his quarters and try to sleep more, but he knew that would be an exercise in futility. He’d been awake for too long and the pain was too real and too fresh now for him to be able to relax enough to sleep.

He reaches down and pats the practice ‘saber that hangs from his belt. If he went to the practice rooms now he might actually be able to snag one all to himself.

He was delighted to find that all but one of the practice rooms were available. He took one of the smaller ones, knowing he didn’t rightly need the more spacious ones.

He grabbed a training probe and scattered a few boxes and pieces of debris around the room as obstacles for himself before blindfolding himself. It took the training probe a few moments to warm up and it did so by buzzing erratically around the young Jedi. He followed it as it circled him, letting himself feel every little detail of the waves it set off in the Force.

He didn’t activate his lightsaber until the probe took its first shot. He dodged it, but just barely. He could feel the heat of the blaster fire on his cheek and ear, it had passed so close to his skin. Just a few centimeters over and he’d have needed to visit the healers for a rather nasty burn to the back of his scalp.

He blocked the next two shots, sensing them before they happened. Another shot blazed through the air and he rolled, grunting painfully as he rolled over a relatively large block of wood. The discomfort of the block of wood interacting with his ribcage distracted him long enough for the probe to get off two shots, both of which hit him in the leg. He yelped in pain and jumped to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg.

He fell back into the Force, allowing his feelings and instincts to guide his actions. He felt the shift in the Force as Qui-Gon entered the practice room, but he did not pay attention to it. Blindfolded, he was unaware of the way the man watched him defend himself from the little probe.

Sweat poured down his forehead, chest, and back as he dodged and blocked. His muscles sang and burned as he twisted and jumped and thrusted his blade.

When the probe beeped and fell to the floor, deactivated, after forty-five minutes of practice, Obi-Wan deactivated his ‘saber and stood, blindfolded, for a long moment as he worked to slow his breathing.

Once he was no longer breathing particularly heavily, he reached up and pulled away the blindfold. He blinked hard as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the training room.

At first he thought the Knight standing in the corner was a figment of his imagination. When he realized that he was real, he jumped about three feet and scrambled to bow respectfully. He could’ve sworn he heard a light chuckle from the Knight as he flushed bright crimson. _How long was he standing there?_ _How much of this did he see?_

He didn’t know if the Knight would reject his attempt, but he reached out with the Force, touching that bond between the two of them. Qui-Gon, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise, did not shut him out.

He pulled back, certain that what he’d just been doing was somehow _wrong_. Qui-Gon wasn’t his Master, after all. Intruding that way was incredibly rude of him.

He felt himself beginning to crumble internally as the Master looked him over one last time before turning and exiting the practice room.

_What was he looking for?_


	7. Not Taken Lightly

He felt the gentle, non-intrusive probing of Obi-Wan’s consciousness against his own and at first wasn’t quite certain what he was feeling. It was almost as though the boy was tickling his consciousness.

Looking over at the boy, he could see plainly on his face how conflicted he was about questioning why the Knight was there, but he was curious and he had ever right to be. Qui-Gon could not fault him for his curiosity. Qui-Gon was taken aback by just how gentle the boy was on their burgeoning Force-bond. When the boy pulled back suddenly, he found himself wanting to reassure him that it was all right.

 _What am I doing? I_ don’t _want him thinking he can be that familiar with me,_ he thought. _Pull yourself together._

He looked Obi-Wan over one last time before he hurried out of the room.

Surely he wasn’t actually considering changing his mind. He couldn’t imagine having to admit to the Council that he’d decided too rashly. Qui-Gon Jinn admit a mistake he made to the Council? He’d sooner eat his boots.

But there was no denying that there was something about this boy, something drawing him to this Initiate beyond the Force-bond. Try though he might, he couldn’t clear the boy from his thoughts. Whether he wanted it or not, the bond was beginning to form.

 _He’s too unsure of himself,_ he thought as he paced the corridors with no particular destination in mind. _He’s not focused. He could fall to the dark side._

But there was something to be said for the kind, gentle way he approached others, had even approached their Force-bond. It showed him that the boy wanted to learn, wanted to be a good Jedi.

He thought about the tentative way the boy had approached his thoughts, as though afraid he would scold him.

Is _he afraid of me?_ Qui-Gon couldn’t be certain, and he couldn’t go rooting through the boy’s mind and still feel like a decent human being. Asking would likely yield a non-answer. He couldn’t imagine it would be a good idea to train someone who was afraid of him.

In the end, he ended up in the meditation room that Master Yoda favored. Normally he would stay as far as possible from that particular room, but he knew that it would be several hours before Yoda would come around. He taught groups of younglings every morning until just before the midday meal. Qui-Gon would be long gone by then.

He sat on the floor just below the window, facing away from the door. Before he even began to clear his mind, his breathing slowed and he felt himself begin to slip into the trance-like meditative state.

When he regained consciousness several hours later, he could tell he was not alone. He could also tell that the other in the room was _not_ Yoda, and that was a relief. He stood and turned to find Mace Windu sitting on the cushion Yoda usually sat upon, watching him thoughtfully.

“Master Windu,” Qui-Gon said, nodding slightly in the other man’s direction. “Can I help you with something?”

“I came to see if you’ve had a change of heart yet, Qui-Gon.”

Qui-Gon sighed and sat on a cushion across from where the Master sat. “I don’t want to take Obi-Wan on as my Padawan, Mace. But…”

“Your empathy is wearing you down.”

“Exactly.”

The Master closed his eyes and stroked his chin. “There _is_ a way you could resolve this matter and absolve your guilt.”

“I’m _not_ going to train the boy.”

“I was not aware that you were able to see into the future now, Qui-Gon. When did you acquire this new skill?” Windu asked, amused.

“Mace—”

Mace Windu held his hand up to silence him. Qui-Gon readily complied.

“You’re worried the boy won’t be strong enough. If you could have seen the side of him that I saw this morning, you would know that this boy possesses strength far beyond his appearance.

“Master Gallia took his best friend as her Padawan last night after the Force bound them to each other. This morning I watched Obi-Wan bid his best friend— his _only_ friend— farewell. Neither of them knew when or if they would see each other again, but I watched that boy bottle his emotions and put on a brave face for his friend.

“I ask you now, Qui-Gon. Do you really find it necessary to continue to put this boy through emotional torture simply because of your own selfish wants?”

Qui-Gon stared at him, dumbfounded. He’d known there had to be something big and emotional behind the boy’s solo practice that morning, but he’d never imagined it was something so painful as having to say goodbye to a dear friend, much less an only friend.

He couldn’t even begin to fathom what it had to be like not to have friends. _No wonder he’s so skittish!_

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked as Master Windu stood.

“Because I know that Obi-Wan won’t,” was the Master’s reply as Qui-Gon also stood. “And because I know you’ll be stubborn right up until the bitter end. Give him a chance, Qui-Gon. Give yourself a chance.”

“Mace…” Qui-Gon sighed as the Master turned and left the room, abruptly ending their discussion.

He was right, Qui-Gon was being stubborn and selfish and he was fully aware. But the description the Master had just given did not fit the boy that Qui-Gon had seen thus far.

 _I think you have a whole host of friends beyond these Temple walls that would agree with me. Perhaps you should seek some of their advice on the matter?_ Master Windu’s words from the day previous echoed in his mind. His former Master had been less than helpful, but perhaps there was another he could trust to help him with this decision.

))((

It amused Qui-Gon to no end when he actually requested permission to use one of the Order’s vehicles in order to make contact with one of his friends. The vast majority of the people with whom Qui-Gon associated were crooks of some variety; shady figures the vast majority of the Republic chose not to see.

Officially, Coruscant was home to no bounty hunters. Qui-Gon could name six who resided within a square kilometer of the Jedi Temple.

“You require this… criminal’s counsel?” Ki Adi Mundi asked as Qui-Gon stood addressing the Council. Qui-Gon’s amused smirk diminished.

“He is one of my oldest and most trusted friends,” he replied. “I have known him since we were very small children.”

Of all the Masters gathered that day, only two weren’t loudly vocalizing their distaste at the idea of a Jedi using the Order’s resources to speak to a bounty hunter. Yoda and Mace Windu sat beside one another, exchanging occasional amused glances as Qui-Gon stubbornly defended his decision.

“Allow you to use a speeder, we shall. Learn what you must learn, Qui-Gon,” Yoda said quite abruptly, cutting Mundi off as he opened his mouth to say something more.

“May the Force be with you,” Windu added.

Qui-Gon bowed slightly before turning and hurrying out of the Council Chamber. _That was the easy part_ , he thought _. Now I’ve just got to_ find _him._

It couldn’t be _too_ hard to find the bounty hunter that had once been Qui-Gon’s closest friend. His livelihood required him to be fairly easy to find for those who sought him out.

The Jedi had only the smallest sliver of an idea of where to start looking for him, but he had to start somewhere.

There was a dilapidated apartment complex not far from the Jedi Temple. How its tenants managed to convince the city not to demolish it year after year, Qui-Gon would never be certain, but it was in the same run-down condition it had been in since he was but a child.

He felt a familiar presence as he parked his speeder and debarked, debating where to begin his search. The building didn’t have any sort of directory. It wasn’t the sort of place one would want to visit unless they knew precisely where the person they were visiting lived.

It never ceased to amaze Qui-Gon how there could exist buildings in such desperately deplorable condition just a stone’s throw away from the Temple.

He stepped inside the building through a security door that served only as a high-tech-looking archway, following the path that brought him closer to the familiar presence he felt.


	8. Trying Too Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains moderately graphic description of what might be construed as self harm.

Obi-Wan walked through his day in a haze, lost so deep in thought that it was only by the will of the Force that he didn’t knock into anybody. _Why did he come to watch me this morning?_ He couldn’t even begin to fathom an answer to the question, at least a positive one. _Perhaps he wanted to see if I am a clumsy with a blade as I am regularly._

He cringed as he remembered the way he’d tripped on the way into the Council Chamber. That had most certainly been the straw that broke the camel’s back. There was no way Qui-Gon wanted to waste his time training someone who tripped over his own feet.

Somehow he found his way to Mota’s quarters. _Mota’s former quarters_ , he reminded himself as he stood outside the door. He didn’t know where Adi Gallia was housed, not that it mattered now. There was no telling when they would return to the Temple. He couldn’t confide in his friend no matter how desperately he wanted to.

She hadn’t even been gone a full day and Obi-Wan was already certain he couldn’t do it without her. _Mota’s the whole reason I’m still here at the Temple_ , he thought. _What am I supposed to do now that she’s gone?_

With a deep sigh, he headed back to his quarters. If Qui-Gon _wasn’t_ going to take him on he was going to need to catch up on his homework. He couldn’t skip his classes forever.

The strange ease with which he’d been able to pry into Qui-Gon’s mind bothered him. There was something about it that almost made him want to hope that the Knight was going to change his mind. He couldn’t afford to hope again.

There wasn’t enough left of his heart to take another heartbreak.

Entering his quarters, he paused just inside the door. For a brief moment, he imagined what it would be like to pack up his few belongings and move into his Master’s quarters.

That had been one of his favorite fantasies to fall back on in the two years he waited for Qui-Gon to return to the temple. Now that it was seeming to be nothing but a fantasy and he found it far less comforting than it had been before.

He sat down at the tiny desk that stood at the foot of his bed and flipped on his desk lamp. There was very little chance that he’d actually be able to focus on his assignments enough to work on them, but he was going to try anyway.

 _He had to feel me clumsily reaching into his mind,_ he thought as he flipped through an article on a datapad. _But he did not shut me out. He did not turn me away. That’s gotta mean something._

He sighed and set the datapad on the desk as he realized he’d read the same paragraph four times.

 _I refuse to get my hopes up_ , he thought as he stood up and began to pace around the room. _Why didn’t he shut me out though?_

He didn’t have an answer that made any sense to him and that was frustrating.

Walking in circles he was beginning to make himself dizzy, not that he noticed or cared. His mind was working far too hard and far too fast for him to pay attention to where he was walking.

Eventually he found his way to the fresher, where he stood and stared at himself in the mirror for a long time.

 _Everything was far easier before this showed up_ , he thought, pawing at the mark on his neck. He was so sick of thinking about it. He was sick of talking about it. He was definitely sick of having to stay calm about it.

 _Maybe I’m_ not _cut out to be a Jedi_ , he thought. For the first time in a long time, that thought didn’t horrify him. _Perhaps it isn’t the end of everything if he doesn’t change his mind_.

He took a deep breath and let out a long, sad sigh. He waited for the tears he was certain would come, but his eyes remained dry. He felt strangely hollow, but it was the same strange hollow feeling he’d felt since Qui-Gon had declared his intention to _not_ train him. He was getting used to it. It was familiar now.

There was something warm and sticky on his fingers as he pulled his hand away from his neck. He looked down, horrified, to find that middle and forefinger were covered in blood.

He looked back at his reflection and found that he’d scratched himself pretty deeply where his Force mark had been. Only two lines of it were still visible, the rest of it gouged out beyond recognition.

 _How will I explain_ this _to the healers?_ _They’ll send me away for sure_. He frantically pressed his hand against the wound. It wasn’t bleeding too badly, but it _was_ one of the things the healers were required to alert the Council about if they saw. Self-harm was a fairly common action seen in the children living at the Temple, with the worst cases being immediately removed and sent to work as a mechanic on another world.

Obi-Wan was almost certain that clawing one’s own neck until it bled profusely would qualify as a particularly bad case and likely be a one-way ticket away from the Jedi Order. He couldn’t go to the healers.

He slid open the drawer under the sink and pulled out the roll of gauze he kept in case of minor accidents he was too embarrassed to bother the Healers with. He hoped he could successfully hide the wound until he could convince it to heal, but he wasn’t about to get his hopes up. Everybody gawked at his neck nowadays and his tunic didn’t quite reach high enough to cover the bandage.

 

 

 


	9. A Compromise

He didn’t know how long he would have to wander through the slums of Coruscant in order to locate the bounty hunter he sought, but he was already growing weary of it.

Qui-Gon knew that the bounty hunter was even less of a fan of the Jedi than his former Master was. He expected that he would agree with the Jedi Master’s decision.

Still, there was something to be said for the warm fondness he felt for the bounty hunter and how much he anticipated seeing the man again after what had likely been close to a decade. He wondered if he’d even recognize his old friend.

More than that, he wondered if his old friend would recognize him.

He rounded a corner a bit too casually and was only aware of the blaster being leveled at his chest as he heard the soft click of the safety being switched off. He looked up to meet his assailant’s eyes and found himself facing an all-too-familiar helmet.

“Jango,” he breathed the name as a sigh of relief. Certainly his friend would not harm him. “How good it is to see you once more, old friend.”

“Old friend?” the man in full Mandalorian armor repeated the Jedi’s words, a note of confusion audible in the distorted version of his voice the helmet. “You are mistaken, Jedi scum.”

“You can’t have forgotten me already,” Qui-Gon replied with a teasing pout. “You swore you had a memory greater than Master Yoda.”

The man in the armor cocked his head and lowered his blaster. “Qui-Gon?”

Qui-Gon gave a small nod and the man holstered his weapon before removing his helmet. “It can’t be. Bloody— Look at you! You’ve aged about as well a hutt after four hundred years in a sarlacc’s gut.”

The familiar face of his best friend since childhood was a sight for sore eyes, even if it was lined with scars both fresh and long since healed. The man had clearly seen some action over the decade or so that had separated them.

“And you, Jango. Still blocking shots with your face, I see,” Qui-Gon replied without missing a beat. The bounty hunter grinned a wide, toothy grin.

“I never thought I’d see the likes of you again.”

“Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

For a brief moment, neither man saw the other for what they had become in the other’s absence. For a brief moment, they were both teenagers again, eagerly catching up after another long day of Qui-Gon training at the temple and Jango running from the authorities.

Jango looked the Jedi up and down, sizing him up. “Never imagined you actually making it, Qui-Gon. For all the trouble you got into with your Master, I would’ve thought the Jedi Order cut you loose by now.”

“They’re considering it,” Qui-Gon replied with a laugh. Jango wasn’t sure he believed that the Jedi was joking, however.

“So what brings you to these parts? Come, let’s take this conversation to a more private area,” he said, gesturing for the Jedi to follow him. They entered a slightly less dilapidated apartment than the ones Qui-Gon had passed— many of which had been missing doors and entire chunks of their walls— which was decorated sparsely in the same blue and silver hues that adorned the bounty hunter’s armor.

“I came to seek you out, actually,” he said. “If you’d believe that.”

“Unsurprising, I always _was_ the smarter of the two of us.”

“You still have an ego that could fill the Room of a Thousand Fountains. At least that’s remained unchanged,” Qui-Gon teased. “I really do need your help, however.”

“ _Really?_ A Jedi wanting _my_ help?” Jango asked, incredulous.

“I have a problem.”

“I don’t give a discount to friends, no matter how far back we go.”

“That’s _not_ the kind of problem I’ve got,” Qui-Gon said.

“Are you certain? Because you didn’t even try to haggle and I mean if the price is too high I _am_ willing to—” Qui-Gon pressed his finger to his friend’s lips to silence him before he rolled up his sleeve to show him the mark on his wrist. Jango stared at it for a moment in stunned silence.

“It’s changed? So, the Force is trying to make you take on a Padawan? And you came to get my blessing before you accepted. Well, that certainly is a strange way of doing things, considering we haven’t seen each other since we were young boys, but congratulations, Qui-Gon. Who’s the lucky kid who got saddled with a Master like you?”

The Jedi Knight stared at him, mouth agape, for several seconds. “Lucky? Jango, you of all people should know that this is the last thing I want.”

“I’m not so sure that’s true, Qui-Gon. When last I knew you, you wanted pretty badly to have that standard Jedi experience. Doesn’t that include raising and training some brat whose only social skills come from a decade of indoctrination from the High Council?”

“That may have been my dream at one time, but I have grown. I’ve come to find that I work better on my own, anyway.”

“I see. You’re afraid,” Jango said flippantly. “Isn’t that some kind of Jedi sin?” Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, but he was less amused than he seemed.

“I’m _not_ afraid,” he replied.

“Sure seems like it from where I’m standing,” Jango said pointedly.

“Well, I’m unsure what to tell you, Jango. I am not afraid.”

“Then rise to meet the challenge,” replied the bounty hunter. “Train the kid. It’ll do you some good. Put things in perspective for you.”

Qui-Gon put his hands on his hips. “Who said I need things put in perspective?” Jango let out one loud, sarcastic laugh.

“Who?” he asked before laughing again and gesturing around the room in which they stood. “The galaxy, for starters. You’ve still got it in your head that you can save anyone needs saving. Idealistic idiot. You’ll save far more if you pass your skills on to the next generation. Even _I_ know that’s the only way traditions and knowledge can really survive generation to generation.”

“You’ve sure changed,” Qui-Gon said thoughtfully after a few moments of quiet contemplation. “I never would’ve imagined _you_ would be urging me to take on a Padawan Learner.”

“Well, see there’s this thing called _time_ , it passes and we grow and change with it,” Jango replied, a definite note of sarcasm apparent in his voice.

“Jango…”

“Look, if you’re really so worked up about this, there must be something to the kid you’re being pulled to. You don’t make a big deal of things unless they’re worthy of being made a big deal of. So clearly you didn’t come here because you assumed I would agree with you. And I don’t, even if that’s what you were looking for. I don’t understand why you stick with that Jedi Order, especially when it’s done nothing but cause you pain since you were a _child_ , but it’s obvious that it’s important to you. If you’re really so torn about this, test the kid.”

“Test him?” Qui-Gon was certain his eyebrow was only one more questionable thing from flying straight off his face as it raised ever further with everything Jango said. He couldn’t deny that the man was speaking the truth.

“You know. Give him some crappy mission to test his skills. See how well he can handle following orders.”

“That sounds too much like changing my mind. I’ve already told the Council—”

“So take the kid on a training mission. Say it’s something the Council mandated and you _have_ to do it. I’ll abduct you. Make the kid come and save you. If he succeeds, maybe thenyou might be able to change your mind without the Council thinking you’ve just been waffling on your decisions.”

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to protest, but shut it just as quickly. The gears were beginning to turn in his head. He found that, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the bounty hunter’s idea. The boy was hardly old enough to manage any sort of real rescue mission. Jango need hardly even make it a challenge.

“See? I told you I was the smarter of the two of us,” Jango said, a wry grin spreading across his face.

“One good idea does not a genius make.”

“A genius it does not take to be brighter than you, Qui-Gon.”

Qui-Gon scowled, but was quietly relieved that he would be able to absolve himself of some of the guilt of turning the boy away. It _did_ seem much less selfish if his training the boy seemed to hinge on whether the boy could think on his feet enough to complete a dangerous rescue mission. He glanced back to the bounty hunter that stood before him.

“All right. We do this. But the boy can never know.”

“Ah, but what if he discovers the truth for himself?” Jango asked. Qui-Gon shook his head.

“Unless you spill your guts to him, I don’t see that happening,” he replied.

The two of them talked for hours, discussing plans that would need to be carried out at precisely the right time so as to avoid suspicion from the boy or the Order. Throughout their conversation, Qui-Gon repeatedly found himself thinking how nice it was to conspire with his friend once more.

When it came time for him to leave, he drew the bounty hunter into a loving embrace, much to the chagrin of the bounty hunter.

“Oy, lay off would ya? There’s no need to get mushy on me, Jinn. You’re still Jedi scum to me.”

“Well to me you’ll always be a dear friend. Thank you for your help, Jango.”

“I’ll be waiting for your signal in the morning,” Jango replied, patting the Jedi Master’s arm.

Qui-Gon returned to the Jedi Temple feeling far more certain about his next course of action. It would not be long before he could wash his hands of the boy without having to outright reject him.

He stood outside of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s quarters for a long moment before ringing the door chime. He did not have to wait long for the boy to answer. He stared up at Qui-Gon eagerly. _Too_ eagerly. He’d already managed to get the wrong idea again. _Blast_.

“Master Qui-Gon! To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, ever hopeful. Qui-Gon swallowed hard.

“I’ve come to offer you a compromise. I’ve… I’ve prepared a rather rigorous training exercise off-world. I am certain the Council will approve. If I like what I see, I will reconsider the final decision that I give to the Council at the end of the week. Does that sound agreeable to you?” he asked. The Initiate looked at him, furrowing his brow in deep concentration.

He could feel he conflict happening within the boy. It was rather nauseating. He almost found himself wanting to train the boy just so he’d learn to control what he projected across their bond.

But it wouldn’t be their bond much longer, so that didn’t worry him enough to give that idea any real thought.

“It won’t be easy, will it? To impress you?” The excitement in the boy’s voice had dulled but not extinguished. Qui-Gon shook his head.

“You will find, Obi-Wan, that I am not an easy man to impress. I have very high standards, some of which are very different from the way of life you have been taught these last twelve and a half years of your life. Assuming I were to change my mind, your new life under my tutelage would not be easy, nor would it be much fun. You really mustn’t be so eager to join me.”

Obi-Wan looked pensive for a moment. Qui-Gon hoped that, perhaps, it meant he might slowly begin to let his hopes lower.

This was, of course, not the case.

The boy’s face stretched into a wide, eager grin.

“I can do it,” he said. “I know I will impress you.” _I have to_.

Qui-Gon knew he wasn’t meant to hear those final three words, but they hit him the same regardless. The boy had far too much of himself invested in being chosen by him. Though he knew there was no reason for him to feel guilt for the boy’s inability to accept the painful truth.

“We leave early in the morning tomorrow. Supplies will be provided for you. Rest up. You will need your energy.”


	10. A Test Of Skill

_I can’t fail. I can’t fail. I can’t fail,_ Obi-Wan repeated the thought to himself over and over as he prepared for bed that night. _This is all I’ve ever wanted. I can’t fail. I can’t—_ Hot tears stung the boy’s eyes as he thought about what might happen to him if Qui-Gon still chose not to train him.

“No,” he whispered. “No, he must want to train me. He’s giving me a chance. He—”

_It’s just a way for him to fail me without having to feel guilty about it._

He took a deep breath to steady himself, wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeve before they had a chance to fall.

 _Then I cannot fail. I must give him reason to feel guilty for passing him over,_ he thought as he turned off the light and slipped into bed. He was equal parts excited and nervous for the day ahead of him, feeling quite certain that he would never be able to fall asleep.

The next thing he was aware of was the gentle, persistent beeping of his commlink. His eyes fluttered open, confused. He didn’t feel like he’d slept at all, yet obviously he had. He reached for his commlink.

“Initiate Kenobi,” he answered, trying extra hard not to sound as groggy as he felt. He didn’t succeed.

“Our shuttle awaits, Obi-Wan. I will meet you on the landing platform in fifteen minutes,” Qui-Gon replied simply.

“U-Understood, Master Jinn. I-I will be there,” Obi-Wan said, cringing at how very tiny and unsure of himself he sounded. He waited until the connection was severed before racing to the fresher. He took an incredibly quick sonic before dressing himself. There wouldn’t be time to stop for breakfast…

His stomach gurgled plaintively at the very thought of skipping breakfast, but there was no way he was going to start this training exercise off on the wrong foot. Another sad noise emanated from his belly as he checked himself over in the mirror, making certain that he looked acceptable. That was when he remembered the cake.

Days ago, he’d snuck a piece of sweet kaf cake back to his room from the refectory. He knew it would likely have gone stale by now, but stale cake was better than going hungry. He pulled it from the cupboard where he’d hidden it near his bed and devoured it in three large bites. He knew it would mean a stomachache later, but it was still a far better fate than going hungry.

He dusted the crumbs off of himself and checked himself in the mirror one last time before grabbing his cloak and practically sprinting out of his room and to the nearest bank of elevators. He only had a few more minutes to get there and—

_Maggy._

Obi-Wan tried very hard not to react to her as she stepped out of one of the elevators. He didn’t have time for her games today. He had to make a good impression on Master Qui-Gon. He _had_ to.

“Where do you think _you’re_ going, Dopey-One?” Maggy asked as he walked past her to summon an elevator for himself. He didn’t dare try to get past her and use the one she’d just stepped off of. He didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her. He knew anything he might do would only serve to spur her on.

“Hey,” she snarled. “I asked you a question. Don’t be rude, Dopey-One.”

“That is not my name,” Obi-Wan said. _Please just leave me alone._

The elevator doors in front of which he stood opened then. Both he and Maggy moved for the waiting elevator. For once, Obi-Wan was the quicker of the two. With the aid of the Force, he managed to close the doors behind him before Maggy managed to join him in the enclosed space. He knew that being trapped with her somewhere so small as an elevator would not end well.

He felt really rather pleased with himself, having bested his bully on a day when his nerves were really bothering him. He closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath as the elevator ascended to the landing platform level. By his calculations, he would arrive on the landing pad with a minute and a half to spare.

Not that he was counting. Not that it mattered. Did it? Would Qui-Gon be impressed that he managed to make it prior to the time he was instructed?

Would Qui-Gon think him too eager?

He sighed. None of the research he’d done on the Knight had proven useful in getting a proper read on him. He’d never expected to have such a difficult time figuring out what he wanted and giving it to him. The Masters were easy enough, his fellow initiates were easy enough…

Trying to please Qui-Gon was like trying to walk up a waterfall. He was starting to sincerely suspect that it couldn’t be done.

He stepped off the elevator once the doors opened and made his way quickly to the landing platform. Qui-Gon stood near the edge, soaking up the first few rays of sunlight. Eyes closed, Obi-Wan knew that the Knight was well aware that he was there. He also knew better than to disturb him, lest he be deep in meditation. He’d made that mistake far too many times with Master Windu over the years.

Obi-Wan stood nearby, hoping not to seem too anxious to leave. He wondered what the Knight was thinking about, wished that he could get a read on him as well as he seemed to be able to read the initiate.

After a few minutes had passed, Qui-Gon turned to face him, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips as he observed the boy’s cautious posture.

“Are you ready?” he asked quietly. Obi-Wan nodded, trying to curb his enthusiasm. The closer he got to the man he wanted to be his Master, the more his enthusiasm grew. He hoped that the Knight would be able to tell how hard he was trying. He hoped it would count in his favor.

As if on cue, Qui-Gon seemed to size him up before gesturing to the shuttle. “After you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan bowed respectfully before hurrying up the ramp into the shuttle. Qui-Gon followed close behind him, shaking his head and chuckling quietly. For the first time since that very first sighting, Obi-Wan felt a flutter of something across their bond.

He fought the swell of hope that accompanied it with every ounce of strength he had, and that little flutter seemed to grow. It took him a few minutes to realize what it was he was feeling.

Amusement.

He’d managed to amuse the Knight. And what was more important, the Knight had deemed it worth sharing over their bond. He felt a strange warmth in his chest, like hope but stronger. He allowed himself to take a bit of comfort in that warmth, hoping it wouldn’t go away.

He hesitated as he entered the cockpit, unsure whether it would be presumptuous of him to take the copilot’s seat. Qui-Gon brushed past him and took the pilot’s seat before turning to glance back at the Initiate.

“Have you had any flight training yet?” he asked. Obi-Wan nodded hesitantly. Had he not done any research on him? He knew that it was in his file that he was at the top of his class when it came to piloting simulations.

“Some. Not too much, it’s not… It’s not something I particularly enjoy,” he admitted. The Knight raised an eyebrow, but did not comment on what the boy said. Obi-Wan fought hard to hide the slight guilt he felt at the admission. It wasn’t supposed to matter what he enjoyed. Piloting was part of the job description if he was ever going to be a Jedi. He’d simply have to get used to it.

“You should be able to act as co-pilot with little trouble, then. If there’s something that confuses you, I can try to clarify,” said Qui-Gon. Somehow, Obi-Wan took comfort in the Knight’s words. He wasn’t looking forward to having to display his skill— or lack thereof— at the helm, but the way his Master spoke…

He shook his head furiously, avoiding looking at Qui-Gon as he slipped into the co-pilot’s seat. He couldn’t tell what he was sending across their bond and what he wasn’t. He didn’t want the Knight to think he was so sure of himself that he could call him his _Master_ …

He assisted the man in preparing the shuttle for takeoff, grateful that the Jedi didn’t seem to need too much help from him. Once they had broken free of Coruscant’s atmosphere, Obi-Wan allowed himself to relax infinitesimally. Takeoff was always the worst.

As they journeyed on, Obi-Wan found himself wondering things that he’d been wondering since Qui-Gon had first rejected him there in the Council Chamber. First off, _why_? By all accounts, the Master had not been trained by the Master that had bore his mark’s twin. Did he resent that? There were no mentions of who the bonded Master was, simply that Dooku was _not_.

He carefully kept these questions behind his shields. He knew he wasn’t the best at hiding himself, but he was getting better with practice. There was no need to embarrass himself in front of the Master. Not now. He was too close to what he wanted now. But those questions burned in the back of his mind.

Did the Master resent him? Had he been hoping he wouldn’t be Force-bound to another? Did he fear that Obi-Wan would reject him as his would-be Master had? Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head. If Qui-Gon had noticed the movement, he did not make any mention of it. He couldn’t focus on these things, couldn’t—

The shuttle was rocked by blaster fire and Obi-Wan was pulled from his thoughts quite suddenly. He looked over to Qui-Gon before looking down at the panels in front of him. He didn’t know what to do in this situation. He’d never been trained to face an actual opponent yet, just some sparring against his fellow initiates with training ‘sabers.

“It would appear we’re under attack,” Qui-Gon said as the shuttle was rocked a second time by blaster fire. The panels in front of them blinked and went out shortly before the lighting overhead blinked out. Obi-Wan felt fear creeping up his back, but he swallowed hard and pushed it down. He had to be brave. He had to show Qui-Gon that he was worth training.

No matter what.

“Stay down, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon whispered as the shuttle shuddered. Somebody had attached their ship to the hatch. It was only a matter of time—

“Stay _down_ , Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon ordered more sternly. Obi-Wan realized that he’d gotten out of his seat and begun to move toward the door. He nodded sheepishly and did as he was told, cowering near the control panel.

Qui-Gon activated his lightsaber as heavy footsteps approached. Obi-Wan felt positively helpless. His ‘saber was only a training ‘saber. It wouldn’t do him any good in a real fight.

 _Stay out of sight until you’re certain it’s safe, Obi-Wan_ , Qui-Gon sent the thought along their bond, causing Obi-Wan to let out a tiny noise of surprise. He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t even realized that was a possibility. He nodded.

 _Yes Master_ , he replied, sending the thought back the same way. The tiny sigh that escaped his Master’s lips was all the proof he needed that his message had been received.

“I’m not your—” Blaster fire interrupted the Master’s words as he sprang into action, deflecting a shot that came just a bit too close to Obi-Wan for comfort. The boy gave a surprised yelp as he tried to press himself further underneath the panel.

He managed to look up right as the thing he feared the most happened. One bolt of energy managed to get past Qui-Gon’s defenses. The man gave a tiny pained noise as he fell back against the pilot’s seat.

Another man came into view. He was wearing a strange armor unlike anything Obi-Wan had ever seen. He walked quickly over to Qui-Gon, kicked his lightsaber away from him, checked his vitals, and hoisted him up over his shoulder. Obi-Wan had to cover his mouth with both hands to stifle the frightened cry that threatened to alert this man of his position.

The armor-clad man cast one final look around the cockpit before hurrying away, dragging Qui-Gon with him. Obi-Wan didn’t move until he felt the other ship detach from the shuttle’s hatch. He quickly stood and looked out the viewport as the power came back up, just in time to see a strange ship pass overhead, heading straight for the planet they’d been approaching.

This training mission just became a rescue mission. Obi-Wan didn’t know what he was meant to do. He was too young to be away from the Temple on his own, but he didn’t know the comm codes to hail the Temple from a shuttle. His own comlink wouldn’t work this far away from anyone or anything.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had never felt quite so alone.


	11. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies. I never meant for this story to take so long for me to update. Same goes for Unforeseen Circumstances and Taken. See, what happened is I recently got into RPing on Tumblr (I'm Master-Qui-Gon over there) and that kind of took over my life (All the quiobi I could ever want!) but I am still working on my stories. I promise. I will finish this book and the subsequent books of the Bonded AU. I have big, BIG plans for this story.

Qui-Gon came to aboard the _Slave I_ , feeling as though he’d had a shuttle land on him. The sickeningly sweet smell of bacta was thick in the air, and it took him a few minutes to realize that was because it was slathered quite thickly across his chest and gut. He inhaled sharply as the pain hit him, though he was thankful for the soothing bacta. He wasn’t in as much pain as he could’ve been.

“Jango?” he called out. No answer. _We must still be flying,_ he thought. He was on the ground, he realized, propped up rather haphazardly against a stack of boxes. He wondered what exactly the bounty hunter deemed worthy of hauling on his ship, but then he realized that it didn’t really matter. He didn’t _really_ care.

What he did care was that the bounty hunter had honest to Force _shot him_ when the plan was for him to shoot the console and have the Jedi pretend to be hit.

It would be a long time before the bounty hunter would return to help his friend. Qui-Gon didn’t think it would really take quite so long to fly down to the planet, but he wasn’t about to question his friend’s methods if he was actually willing to shoot him. When the door to the cargo hold finally opened, Qui-Gon blinked hard against the light. Jango looked so much taller from this angle.

Qui-Gon felt so terrifyingly _small_. He wasn’t used to feeling small. Ever. He was a very tall, very broad man. But in his current position, he felt very, very small.

“Jango,” he started, unsure quite what to say. How exactly _does_ one broach the subject of a friend causing very serious bodily harm?

“Qui-Gon,” the bounty hunter replied with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Why did you shoot me?”

“Sorry about that,” Jango said, his voice dripping with mock-guilt. “See, I have a tendency to go for what’s real. Always. But you were never in any danger, not to worry. I wouldn’t have shot you fatally. Not with that boy still needing to get back to the Temple. I’m certainly not going to be the one to drag him back there.”

“We agreed to fake it, though,” Qui-Gon countered. “Why—”

“I have altered our deal, Qui-Gon. Pray I do not alter it further. I’ve simply made it a slightly fairer challenge. You didn’t tell me he was so _small_.”

“What does his size have to do with anything?” the Jedi Master demanded.

“You were not being fair to him. You have to give him a chance, otherwise this is merely an act of torture. I helped to level that playing field, since it did not seem you were going to.”

“Jango!”

“Qui-Gon.” The bounty hunter’s voice was cold. “He’s just a child. Has he even ever piloted a ship on his own before? It took him for _ever_ to start following us. I almost had to make it obvious that this is all just a damned exercise. I can’t condone traumatizing a child this way if you’re not going to at least give him a proper chance.”

Qui-Gon sighed. His friend was right, though he still resented that he’d been shot.

“We are on Cadannia. I managed to keep him from landing too near us. That took quite a lot of shooting. You’re really very lucky I’m as skilled as I am. I could’ve killed that boy.”

“The danger has to be real, Jango,” Qui-Gon said as he pushed himself into a slightly more comfortable sitting position. “How’s he been doing?”

“Well, once he started following us, he’s been fairly adept with the shuttle you chose. He even managed to get a shot off, though he missed. That may have been on purpose, however. Who knows. He’s little. He’s probably panicking.”

Qui-Gon didn’t even need to reach out through their bond to know that Jango wasn’t too far from the truth. Obi-Wan was projecting rather wildly. In this instance, he really couldn’t blame him. In fact, the Knight had been counting on it. He didn’t have too many other options to monitor the young man’s distance or progress, after all.

Obi-Wan seemed to be aware that Qui-Gon had regained consciousness. The knight felt a strange, fluttery wave of relief wash over him through their bond.

He found it oddly comforting.

“How’s your chest feeling?” Jango asked as he knelt beside his friend. Qui-Gon shrugged, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the edges of the still-healing wound.

“It’s not as painful as it was, but I still feel like I’ve been shot,” he said. Jango couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, well.” Jango shook his head, laughing harder. “So now what? We just gonna sit here and wait?”

“Well, we have to decide what to do when he gets here.”

“Qui-Gon, he’s got a lightsaber. I’m not letting him saw me in half.”

“It’s a training ‘saber, Jango. The worst he can do is give you a nasty burn. And, all things considered, I think I’ll let him.”


	12. Fate or Luck

Obi-Wan let out a yelp of surprise as the bounty hunter shot at his shuttle again. _Perhaps attempting to get any closer was a bad idea. Perhaps following this bounty hunter had been a bad idea._

No.

He couldn’t believe that. He shook his head to clear the intrusive thoughts that plagued him. That was not the Jedi way. He had to help however he could. He wasn’t very strong, but he couldn’t contact the Temple and he couldn’t let Qui-Gon be taken and enslaved or killed or whatever it was the bounty hunter was planning.

Besides, it wasn’t like he had much other choice. He wasn’t skilled enough to get back to Coruscant. He didn’t have any way to contact the Temple or anyone else for that matter. He had to give chase.

He had to succeed.

He landed in the forest on a hill. From that hill, he could see where the bounty hunter had landed. It would be a long, long hike through the forest to reach the bounty hunter’s ship, but Obi-Wan was confident that he could do it.

But then what? What did he expect to do? The bounty hunter had _real_ weapons. He just had a training ‘saber. It likely wouldn’t even do anything against the man’s armor. But he still had to try. He was Qui-Gon’s only hope.

He found the knapsack with supplies in it that Qui-Gon had intended for him and secured it to his back. For a few moments, he debated whether or not to take the one intended for the Knight as well.

In the end, he took it.

It was then that he realized just how much bigger and stronger than him the man was. It was then that he realized precisely how desperately he wanted the man to train him. He wanted to be that strong.

Carrying the two bags through the wilderness would be exhausting, but Obi-Wan was determined. And once he had saved the Knight, he knew that the Knight would likely need what he’d packed for himself on the trek back to the shuttle.

Assuming, of course, Qui-Gon was even capable of walking when Obi-Wan found him.

 _No_ , he scolded himself. _I can’t think like that. He’ll be okay. I know he’ll be okay._ He reached down to put his hand on his lightsaber, as if making sure it was still there. His lower lip quivered, but he refused to give in to the urge to cry. He had important things to do now.

Putting on a brave face, he exited the shuttle and began his hike toward where the bounty hunter had landed his ship. He had to hurry. He had to save the man he wanted to be his Master. Even if Qui-Gon decided to still not choose him as a padawan, the Knight deserved to be saved quickly.

If he was figuring correctly, he only had about four hours before the sun would set and he would have to find some manner of shelter. He knew a little about Cadannia, but not enough that he would’ve felt safe continuing to move forward in the darkness. Not to mention it was a rather stupid idea to do so. He could very easily lose his way and begin going in the wrong direction.

 _I’m coming for you, Qui-Gon_ , he promised silently. _I won’t fail you_.

Hiking through the forest was far more difficult than Obi-Wan had anticipated. There was far less room for him to work with and he was far smaller and weaker than he realized as he tried to carry both his own supplies and those of his hopefully soon-to-be master. Still, he pressed on, making sure to keep an eye on his surroundings and to try and keep a visual contact with the bounty hunter’s ship at all times. He didn’t care if it meant he was putting himself in more danger. Obi-Wan refused to let that ship out of his sight.

He made it much farther than he thought he would before it grew too dark for him to continue. He could no longer see his ship, but the bounty hunter’s ship was still fully visible to him.

Obi-Wan Kenobi weighed his options. He could build a tent on the ground and hope that none of the wildlife was particularly hungry and carnivorous, or he could climb up into one of the trees.

He chose the latter.

It didn’t take him very long to climb up into one of the trees and set up a hammock for himself. He sliced off a few of the lower-hanging branches so that things on the ground might be less inclined to try and come after him, and he hung a tarp over the branches just above his little hammock.

He hung their bags on a sturdy branch near where he had his hammock and he curled up. He could still see the bounty hunter’s ship if he looked through the trees.

 _I don’t know if you’re listening to me, or if you’re even uninjured enough to try,_ he thought, directing the thoughts toward the Knight. _But… I don’t expect that you’ll train me just because I’m coming to save you. I’m coming to save you because it’s the right thing to do._

He sighed and looked forlornly at the bounty hunter’s ship, wishing he could get just a bit closer that night. _I wish I wasn’t alone_ , he thought after a moment. _I wish I could’ve called for help._

Obi-Wan was grateful that the temperature did not dip too low in the night. He found it fairly comfortable to sleep without a blanket, though he had to huddle into himself to stay comfortably warm. It wasn’t too terribly bad. He slept lightly, waking at the slightest sound.

At one point, he was almost certain he heard someone walking around below the place he’d made for himself in the tree, but try as he might he couldn’t see anyone or anything down there. He stayed as still as he could and clutched his lightsaber close to his chest, just in case.

As the sun began to peek through the thick forest canopy, Obi-Wan began to stir. He wasn’t entirely certain that he’d slept at all through the night, but he’d managed to rest a bit at least. The first thing he did once he was aware that he was conscious was check to make sure the bounty hunter’s ship was still there. To his great relief, it was.

With fumbling, tired fingers he managed to take down his little makeshift shelter as the sun rose higher in the sky. By the time it was light enough that he would be able to continue on, he had eaten a small breakfast and packed up the supplies he’d used in the night.

He carefully climbed down out of the tree and continued on.

 _I’m coming,_ he silently promised as he drew his ‘saber, using it to cut down the thicker brush that blocked his path. It wasn’t often that Obi-Wan ever felt big, but he’d never felt much smaller than he did in that dense forest that featured trees easily fifteen times as tall as him.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Obi-Wan decided he’d been walking through the jungle for long enough to warrant a short break. His stomach was growling plaintively at him and his feet were beginning to hurt. The air was hot and thick and each breath he drew seemed to be more difficult than the last. But he couldn’t give up. To give up might mean his death.

Might mean Qui-Gon’s death.

He sat on a thick, moss-covered log and unpacked a small amount of food. He was rationing even more carefully than Qui-Gon seemed to have when he packed their bags. If he didn’t manage to save the Knight, Obi-Wan knew he might be stranded on that planet for a very long time. If he was to have any hope for survival, he’d have to ration things carefully.

It felt nice to rest, nicer still to get a bit of food in his belly, though it merely served to amplify his appetite, not sate it. He sighed. He wouldn’t be able to stop for food again until dark, and that was if he didn’t reach the ship by then. He knew he had to be getting close, though he couldn’t tell for sure. He didn’t know precisely how large the bounty hunter’s ship really was.

Looking at it, it was either a few hours longer or a few days longer of walking. He couldn’t be certain. All he knew for sure was that he needed to get moving again soon and that Qui-Gon needed him.

It was nice to be needed, even if it was under such horrible circumstances. He knew that just about any other person from the Temple would be better equipped to save the Knight. He removed his outer tunic, tying it loosely around his shoulders to help soak up his sweat. He found he was far more comfortable once he decided to do that.

After about ten minutes of rest, Obi-Wan continued on. He was tired, but that didn’t matter. It was soon after that that he realized he was being watched. He was being followed.

It took a very large amount of his strength not to break down and start panicking.

 

~~//~~//~~//~~

 

“We’re not seriously going to sit here and wait for him, are we?” Qui-Gon demanded as Jango locked the ship down for the night.

“And what do you expect me to do, Qui-Qui? You think I’m just going to spirit you off somewhere more comfortable? You’re a hostage, not my guest.”

“You’re making it too _easy_ for him, Jango,” the Jedi replied, scowling at the babyish nickname his friend chose to use.

“He’s _twelve_ , Qui-Gon.”

“He’s a Jedi, Jango!”

The bounty hunter threw his arms up in exasperation. Clearly, he was not going to be able to make the Jedi see just how utterly stupid he was being. What a pity.

“I’ll give him a challenge tomorrow, Qui-Gon. And I’m going to check on his progress tonight. Jedi or no, you cannot discount the fact that he is a very small boy. You expect too much of him. Pfassk, man, he’s already dancing about like a madman trying to impress you! What’s it going to take for you to admit that you were wrong and you should train the boy?”

Qui-Gon stared up at the bounty hunter. How wrong he had been to believe that he would be on his side. He sighed. How could he make his friend see his side?

“Why did I agree to let you help me?”

“If you’ll recall, this whole thing was _my_ idea. You were simply going to ruminate on how pathetic you are for a week.”

“Jango,” Qui-Gon sighed, glaring at his friend.

“Qui-Gon,” the bounty hunter replied, raising an amused eyebrow.

 

~~//~~//~~//~~

 

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber again and its pale blue blade cast an eery glow over the plants that surrounded him. He was _certain_ he’d heard footsteps. Someone was close. Too close. He’d yet to see any other sentient lifeforms on the planet, and so he _had_ to assume it was the bounty hunter.

The forest grew ever denser as he pressed on, with less and less sunlight breaking through the canopy. If he squinted through the trees, he could still see the bounty hunter’s ship. He was close. Very close.

Too close.

His heart was beating faster than he’d ever felt it beating before. Any breath he drew might end up being his last. Fear threatened to paralyze him, but Obi-Wan knew he had to press on.

He had no choice.

A blaster bolt narrowly missed his left ear and he froze, inhaling sharply. _Can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this!_

He was shaking as he forced himself to take another step forward. _I_ have _to do this. I have no choice._

A deep breath. Another shaky step forward. He sensed the next blaster bolt and deflected it. It hit a tree, scattering a flock of birds through the air. Another shot, narrowly deflected.

Terror clawed at the edges of his consciousness, but Obi-Wan refused to give in. Another step forward. Another deflected shot.

Out of the shadows stepped a dark, armored figure, a blaster in either thick-gloved hand. Obi-Wan clutched his lightsaber defensively. He didn’t want to do this.

He took a deep shaky breath as he took another step forward. _For Qui-Gon. Do it for Qui-Gon._

“You fool,” spat the bounty hunter. “You’re no match for me. Why did you come here?”

“To save the Jedi you took,” Obi-Wan replied, fighting to keep his voice level. _I have to try. I have to try. If I don’t, both Qui-Gon and I are doomed._ “I’m… I’m not afraid of you.”

The armored man chuckled darkly. “You should be. You will be.” He fired another shot. Obi-Wan dodged it, narrowly.

“Please,” he begged quietly. “I just… I just want to go home. I want Knight Jinn to be safe.” He deflected another shot, flinching as another narrowly missed his head. “I can’t go back on my own. I don’t know how to get back to Coruscant.”

“Your sob story means nothing to me, Jedi scum.”

Another shot, another deflection. Obi-Wan was on the verge of tears as he continued to approach the bounty hunter.

Another shot. Obi-Wan tried to aim as he deflected it. The bounty hunter staggered back and ducked as the blaster bolt nearly hit him in the helmet, directly between the eyes.

“I’m not leaving without the Jedi Knight you abducted.”

“Then you’ll rot here,” the bounty hunter said with a flippant laugh. It was then that Obi-Wan had had enough.

It was then that Obi-Wan charged. Training ‘saber or no, blaster or no, fear or no, he wasn’t going to let this bounty hunter win. He wasn’t going to let his fear win. He knocked one of the blasters out of one of the bounty hunter’s hands, slashing at him furiously with his lightsaber as he pushed him back.

“Give me back the Jedi you stole,” he growled as the bounty hunter tripped over a particularly large root, landing splayed on his back. He lifted his blaster, aiming it at Obi-Wan’s chest. The boy kicked his wrist as hard as he could, knocking the blaster away from him. He leveled his ‘saber at the man’s head.

“Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD THIS PRECIOUS LITTLE BEAN, MARCHING INTO WHAT HE KNOWS COULD VERY WELL BE HIS DEATH. I’m still writing the chapter as I write this note, but oh goodness I just hit myself with feels. I’m trying to get back into Obi-Wan’s headspace to finish the chapter strong and I realized.  
> This poor little bean knows very well he could die. He has no idea that Qui-Gon has orchestrated this whole thing. He would never think that Qui-Gon would do such a thing to him. He’s spent the last two years idolizing this man— him not wanting to take him as his padawan shocked the hell out of him.  
> And now he’s not even trying to impress Qui-Gon anymore. No. Now he just wants to save Qui-Gon. No matter what Qui-Gon chooses.   
> Because he’s scared. He’s scared that he might be stranded. He’s scared that Qui-Gon might die. He’s scared that he’ll have to face the bounty hunter— WITH A F*CKING TRAINING ‘SABER.   
> MY POOR LITTLE PRECIOUS BEAN.


	13. Decisions, Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. This certainly took forever. Hi, guys, I've started working on this again! I'm hoping I managed to kinda smooth the line where my writing style kinda changed, since I started working on this chapter months and months ago and I don't really write the same way anymore. Not entirely, at least.  
> Chapter title is an artifact from when the story was actually 110% matchy matchy with my overall series outline, whereas it's going slightly slower than the outline at the current moment.

Of all the things Qui-Gon had considered that he might find when the cargo bay door opened again, he hadn’t expected to see Obi-Wan holding one of Jango’s blasters in one hand, his training lightsaber in the other, and Jango’s other blaster tucked into his belt, forcefully shoving Jango along. No, he was fairly certain that he’d never imagined such a thing could occur.

He was also fairly certain that he’d never thought he’d feel quite so relieved to see that little initiate.

“Unbind him,” Obi-Wan ordered sternly as he removed the packs of supplies from his shoulders. _Had he really been carrying both packs the entire distance?_

For the briefest of seconds, Qui-Gon could see the boy as a grown man, so near knighthood, that same fiercely protective fire in his eyes. The scene was different and he was almost certain he could see the faint glow of a red ‘saber blade reflected in the boy’s eyes, but it was clear that the two of them had been together long enough for him to be trained into a fantastically capable swordsman and obviously very strong young Jedi. There was a strange sense of pride that swelled within his chest at the vision. When he blinked and the boy was but a boy again, that pride remained.

Qui-Gon Jinn never expected Obi-Wan to be able to overpower a bounty hunter, much less navigate a dense jungle on his own. Perhaps he _should_ reconsider his stance on training the boy.

Jango stepped forward, knelt down, and undid the binders that held Qui-Gon’s wrists and ankles. “See?” he said, turning back to look at Obi-Wan. “He’s unharmed. As I said.”

“You shot him. You call that unharmed?” the young initiate asked coldly. He kept the blaster leveled at the bounty hunter as he moved past him to kneel beside the knight. "Master, I-"

All of a sudden, Obi-Wan found himself unable to form words. Out in the jungle it had been all he could think about, what he would say to Knight Jinn if he did manage to save him. Now, however, he was at a complete loss. Every part of him wanted to drop the blaster and throw his arms around the man. Above all else, he needed comforting.

But he knew that was not something he could afford now. "I'm… I'm sorry, I- I couldn't find your 'saber and I— A- Are you able to stand?" he asked after a few moments, his voice barely above a whisper.

Qui-Gon nodded slightly, fighting to keep his expression neutral or at least vaguely thankful. He didn't want to broadcast just how shocked he was at the child's apparent tracking abilities and piloting skills, though he reserved the right to be at least a little shocked that he'd managed to disarm the bounty hunter. "My legs are a bit stiff, but I'm no worse for wear," he replied.

He couldn't disguise his shock as the boy tucked the Mandalorian's blaster into his belt and offered to help him stand. It was then that he found himself wondering what had happened to Jango's other blaster.

In fact, he found himself wondering many things. Not the least of which being whether or not Jango had actually fired at the boy. Sure, he'd expressed his distaste at any violence or unfairness levied at the child, but what if that had all been for show?

As Qui-Gon allowed the boy to help pull him to his feet, he found himself not-so-discreetly looking the boy over in search of any sign that Jango had been, perhaps, _too_ rough with him. It was that moment that he realized that there was no way he could possibly continue down the path to cutting the boy loose and letting another Master train him. He could not release the claim which the Force had made on his behalf.

And he couldn't possibly let the boy know that yet.

Once he was on his feet, he held his hand out expectantly. Obi-Wan obediently gave him the blaster, which he immediately leveled at Jango. "We'll be leaving now, bounty hunter."

He could feel Obi-Wan's question before he even managed to wrap his mouth around the words to ask.

"Shouldn't we detain him? Bring him back to Coruscant?" the boy asked as Qui-Gon made his way to the door, keeping the blaster leveled at his friend for show. "Master Jinn?"

"As I said before, young Kenobi, many of my values do not line up with the values of the Order as a whole." With that, Qui-Gon hurried out of the cargo hold, followed quickly by the young boy that had just "rescued" him. Obi-Wan's eyes hardly left the bounty hunter as he followed the man that he hoped to be his Master. Once again, he was projecting rather wildly, more so than he'd been in the time since he'd managed to disarm Jango.

He'd been rather worried at that point, if he was being truthful with himself. He'd felt the fear coursing through Obi-Wan, heard the way he'd begged, at least in his thoughts. And then suddenly there was nothing. Jango said he'd make it "real" but Qui-Gon hadn't thought he would shoot the _child_ …

Thankfully, it didn't seem that Obi-Wan had been injured. In fact, it seemed more like the attack had made the boy even more unwilling to fail in his quest to please him.

"Let me take your pack, Obi-Wan. You've carried both of these quite a distance," he said as they exited the ship and hurried into the trees for cover. The Initiate shook his head, opting instead to keep moving.

"I'm fine," he replied. "It's not that heavy."

Qui-Gon laughed then, causing Obi-Wan to jump nearly a meter in shock. It was the first genuine laugh he'd heard from the man, so he had every right to his shock. “Obi-Wan, if you’d prefer to keep carrying your pack, you may, but you needn’t lie to me. I was the one who packed your supplies and I am _well aware_ that they are not light by any means.”

Normally, to be called out that way would have turned Obi-Wan’s ears—and the rest of his head, for that matter—bright red and left him a stammering mess. With the exhaustion and confusion that were swimming through him now, all he could manage was a tired, “I’m sorry, Master Jinn.” He shifted so that the strap to his bag was more secure on his shoulder as he tried to find the path that he’d cut through the jungle.

Qui-Gon fell silent again, opting instead to watch how Obi-Wan would react now that he’d “saved” the Knight. The relief that had flooded their bond upon their initial exit from _Slave I_ had faded and now had become confusion and frustration. Obi-Wan’s thoughts were still flying across their bond too fast for Qui-Gon to make heads or tails of what he was being presented with, but he could tell that the boy was fast becoming frustrated with the silence. With _his_ silence. It was becoming more and more apparent as they moved through the trees that Obi-Wan wanted to say something. To say _many_ things. But he was biting his tongue and staying silent.

And the harder he fought to stay silent, the greater his frustration grew, until it was nearly as oppressive across their bond as the hot, humid air they basically swam through.

The greater his frustration grew, the more he tripped over his own feet, over large roots and downed branches, over rocks, over _air…_

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said after nearly an hour of keeping to himself and observing the boy. “Perhaps we ought to stop and rest.”

“It would be smarter to put as much distance as we can between ourselves and the bounty hunter,” Obi-Wan replied, neither slowing his pace nor turning his head to acknowledge that the Knight had addressed him. That was when Qui-Gon reached out with the Force and stopped him.

“You’ve had a hard couple of days, Obi-Wan. You deserve to rest.”

“We really must get you back to the Temple. I’ll rest when we’re back on Coruscant.”

“ _Obi-Wan._ ” There was an authority to Qui-Gon’s voice that he didn’t like to use with other Jedi, unless those other Jedi were Masters Windu and Yoda. The boy stopped and turned to look at the Knight expectantly. “You want me to train you, do you not?” He nodded. Qui-Gon smirked and patted his shoulder. “Then does it not follow that you should listen when I suggest such radical things as ‘taking a break’?”

Obi-Wan sighed another frustrated sigh, but he nodded, looking down at his boots. The Knight could feel the child’s disappointment with himself growing within him. That immediate lapse into _not good enough_ was going to have to be one of the first things Qui-Gon worked on with the boy. He was really starting to understand the depth of Windu’s words about the boy only having had one friend.

They found a small clearing in the shade and quickly set down their packs. As Qui-Gon lowered himself to the ground, Obi-Wan continued to move. It took Qui-Gon a few minutes to realize that the boy was trying to make him more comfortable.

It took him a few minutes longer to realize that it was more because the boy was filled with nervous energy than because he felt it his duty.

“Obi-Wan, did I say you needed to do any of that?” he asked as they neared half an hour in the clearing and the boy had yet to sit down for longer than two minutes. “You’re going to give yourself heat sickness. Come and eat. Take a drink. Take a breather. We’re safe here. _You’re_ safe here.”

“But we’re _not_ ,” Obi-Wan said as he did as he was told. “If that bounty hunter comes—ˮ

“The bounty hunter would be foolish to pursue us. You took his weapons.”

“How do you know he didn’t have more blasters on his ship?” Obi-Wan’s question was legitimate, and Qui-Gon was quite certain that his friend had at least one blaster hidden somewhere aboard his ship.

“He won’t take us by surprise this time,” Qui-Gon replied after a moment of thought. “With both of us scanning for him, it’ll be nearly impossible for him to get the better of us.”

He busied himself with taking stock of what he’d packed for himself, but he was keeping careful watch over Obi-Wan through their bond. At first, the boy’s worry had only continued to grow, but as Qui-Gon continued to maintain his calm, quiet demeanor, he began to calm down a bit.

“What food do you have left?” he asked once Obi-Wan seemed calm enough to not jump up and try foraging for wild fruit at the mere thought of lacking food. His own pack was, of course, filled with necessities, but he was curious to see how the boy had rationed his supplies in the absence of an adult.

“I only ate what I knew I would need for a small breakfast,” he said after a moment. “So… Pretty much everything that you’d packed for me.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t hide his amazement at that. Obi-Wan struck him as a nervous eater.

That also meant that the boy had only eaten breakfast for two days in a row. No wonder he seemed so irritable and frustrated. “Well, we’ll be going back to Coruscant once we read the ship. I think I’ve seen all I need to see,” he said, flashing a friendly smile at the boy. “You ought to eat something, if you can. I know the heat is oppressive, but you haven’t eaten anywhere near enough. You’re a growing boy.”

“I’m not hungry,” Obi-Wan replied. It was half true. He was a bit hungry, but he also felt sick. He knew that he’d come very close to death and that fact was terrifying. It was something that the Masters at the Temple taught the younglings at great length, but once faced with the possibility Obi-Wan found it was far harder to deal with than he ever could have imagined. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to risk throwing up.

Qui-Gon couldn’t tell if all of that was correct, as the boy was hardly projecting at all anymore and he didn’t feel right peering into the boy’s thoughts again without asking. He didn’t know if his assumptions were true, but he tended to believe they were. He remembered what his first brush with death had felt like.

He felt bad that he’d managed to shake the poor child so badly.

“Eat. Drink some water. You’ll feel better if you do, I promise you.”

Obi-Wan looked at him as though he was sizing him up. “Jedi aren’t supposed to make promises,” he said after a moment. Qui-Gon couldn’t help but laugh. Of all the things to protest, _that_ was what the child chose? Was he _serious_? Obi-Wan sighed and looked down.

“Your virtues aren’t like those of other Jedi. I get it. I read everything the library had about you, you know. I’m not looking at you like you’re a prime example of someone who follows all the rules.” The boy busied himself with deciding what to eat as he spoke, keeping his eyes on his bag as he fumbled with its contents. “You’re one of the most highly-respected Knights in the Order. Of course you don’t want some clumsy kid around, fouling things up. But that doesn’t mean you have any right to laugh at me when I point something out that should be obvious to a Jedi.”

There was far too much to unpack in the boy’s passionate little outburst, so for a long while Qui-Gon was silent. As the silence grew longer, he could feel the boy’s shame and embarrassment growing. _I shouldn’t have said anything. Of course now he won’t pick you, Dopey-One._

“Little one, it may not be the Jedi way to go about making promises all fast and loose, but I daresay it’s far less Jedi-like to talk down to oneself as much as you do,” he said after a few minutes of contemplation. He could tell that the silence had been an agonizing eternity for the child, given the ever-growing dread emanating from him, but he didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“If it is truly the will of the Force, it will happen, Obi-Wan,” he continued after a moment. “But a Force-bond is not the be-all, end-all of life. Of both of us, I think I have a bit more experience and firsthand knowledge of that.”

“You weren’t the runt of your year,” Obi-Wan declared loudly, shoving his bag away without deciding on a snack. “Of course it wasn’t the end for you. You had Masters tripping over themselves at the chance to train you. Until that morning in the training room, I’ve never had a Master even so much as cast a second glance my way.” _Please stop rubbing it in. I know you don’t want to train me. I know you’re just going to tell the Council that this isn’t going to work. I get it._

Qui-Gon sighed and turned his attention back to his own supplies. Clearly he’d still managed to say the wrong thing.


	14. Rites of Passage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is again an artifact from when this was fully in sync with my outline. Next chapter will return to the proper outline.

_He’s not even going to thank me._ The thought had been gnawing at Obi-Wan since they’d hurried away from the bounty hunter’s ship and had only grown more persistent and frustrating as they hiked along back toward their own ship. He knew that a Jedi shouldn’t require thanks, that having managed to save the Knight on his own was its own reward, but it only seemed _right_. He’d risked his life to save the man, after all.

Now he sat near the Knight—but not _too_ near, as the heat was oppressive enough without being too near another person’s body heat—and avoided looking at him as he ate a small meal and continued to insist that the boy should eat as well. Obi-Wan couldn’t see why it would matter, however.

 _Not even so much as a thank you. He really_ does _plan to just sever the bond when we return to the Temple._

“At least drink some water, Obi-Wan. It will do you no good to dehydrate now.” Qui-Gon’s words startled the boy, pulling him away from his thoughts as they cut through the heavy silence that had fallen between them. He found that his first reaction was to want to continue to be stubborn, just to spite the Knight.

But what good would that ultimately do him? None, of that much he was quite certain. Sighing, he dug through his bag and pulled out a durasteel bottle that was still more than half full of water. Had their training exercise actually gone as planned, perhaps his ability to ration his food and water would have impressed the Knight. How traipsing through the jungle _on his own_ in a quest to save someone more than twice his age was less impressive than anything he could’ve shown on a proper camping trip was so far beyond Obi-Wan’s sphere of knowledge that even beginning to think about it once more was causing frustration and anger to well up inside him again.

 _Let it go_ , he told himself, scolding himself. _Getting angry about it is just going to make it even harder to find a Master that’ll be willing to train me._

After he’d drank a couple of mouthfuls of water, Obi-Wan poured some into his hand and rubbed it across his forehead and into his hair. It brought him far less relief from the overbearing heat than he’d hoped for. Worse than that, it earned him a look from Qui-Gon. A look that he couldn’t quite read, which meant it was probably not a very good look. He quickly put the cap back on his water and stuffed it back into his pack.

It was then that Qui-Gon stood up, and before Obi-Wan could grab his pack and do the same, Qui-Gon called the boy’s bag to his hand with the Force and slung it over his shoulder with his own bag. Obi-Wan felt like he could cry.

 _He doesn’t even trust that I’m strong enough to carry my own pack any further,_ he thought miserably as he pushed himself to his feet.

“We best be on our way,” Qui-Gon said as Obi-Wan brushed himself off and made sure that his lightsaber was still hanging from his belt. “It’s still quite a long walk to the ship.”

 _I know, I’ve already walked the distance once,_ Obi-Wan thought bitterly.

_Not even a thank you._

 

~~~//~~~//~~~

 

Obi-Wan had never been quite so grateful to step foot on a ship in his entire twelve years of life. Just walking up the ramp and into the hatch dropped the humidity by more than half, although it took Qui-Gon starting the engines back up for there to be any end to the heat. The moment that the temperature onboard began to drop, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan let out loud sighs of relief.

Obi-Wan wiped his face with his hands and let his inner tunic fall open to grant some of that glorious cool air access to his burning chest and stomach. As the tunic fell open, however, something fell from his neck. At first, he thought it had been a rather large bug that had managed to burrow into a warm, damp spot in the clothing, but as he crouched down to investigate he realized, in horror, precisely what it was.

Worse than that, he knew that Qui-Gon had seen.

“What is that?” the Knight asked as Obi-Wan picked up the makeshift cotton bandage that had been hiding the mark that he’d once been so very proud of and the damage that he’d caused it with his fingernails.

“Nothing,” Obi-Wan replied, quickly pocketing the makeshift bandage as he delicately probed his neck with his fingers. It was swollen and tender, but not outright painful. The area around the mark felt like it was full of fluid. _At least now if I go to the healers they won’t know I did this to myself,_ he thought, wincing as he rubbed it with his palm.

“Obi-Wan, what did I say about lying to me?” Qui-Gon’s tone was stern. Obi-Wan sighed and turned so that the Knight could see. He cringed when the Knight gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. “What _happened_? Did the bounty hunter do this to you?” he demanded as he closed the small gap between them and knelt down to inspect the wound. Obi-Wan merely shook his head in response. “What happened?” Qui-Gon asked again.

“It’s fine. It doesn’t even—ˮ The rest of Obi-Wan’s protest was lost as Qui-Gon gently poked at it and his vision went red, then white, before going black. He let out a choked cry of pain as he felt something, perhaps the scab or maybe an over-full blister, rupture and felt something warm and wet pour down his neck and chest. “Stop!” he managed to choke out, trying desperately to pull away from the Knight, but Qui-Gon kept him in place with the Force. His neck was throbbing. He couldn’t see for the pain and sudden, unbearable pressure that seemed to threaten to send his brain out through his eye sockets.

“This is badly infected. Obi-Wan, how long have you been hiding this? You should have gone to the healers right away!” Qui-Gon sounded utterly dumbfounded. Deep inside, Obi-Wan felt that last little semblance of hope that he’d managed to hold onto extinguishing as he realized that there was no way he was going to be able to get out of telling him what had happened.

Qui-Gon would tell the Council and the Council would expel him. He’d end up somewhere in the Outer Rim, and that was if he was lucky. He wasn’t even skilled enough to be trained as a healer now that he was flaming out. He was thankful for the pain, for the legitimate reason to cry. And cry he did, as Qui-Gon tended to the wound with bacta and the gentlest touch he could manage. He continued to cry as Qui-Gon told him to sit and rest as he got the ship ready for takeoff. He cried harder as the pain finally dulled; as his vision slowly returned and his ear stopped ringing.

It was only as Qui-Gon set course for Coruscant and finally turned his attention back to him that Obi-Wan finally managed to calm himself down enough to speak. It wasn’t that he wanted to, but he knew he had to. Qui-Gon wasn’t going to allow him to cry forever. Sooner or later he would demand answers, and he’d already made enough of a fool of himself.

“Before you try to speak, I want you to finish your water,” Qui-Gon said once Obi-Wan’s crying had diminished to the occasional lingering sniffle. The boy didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth and throat were dryer than they’d ever been. He had to sit a few moments longer before he could be certain his legs would carry his weight the short distance between his seat and where the Knight had dropped their bags, but if he was about to admit something even more personal than he had back down on the planet he wasn’t about to let himself trip over his own feet now.

He knelt beside his bag and carefully opened the bottle of water and a small package of trail rations. All of that crying had reminded him of just how empty his stomach was. Glancing up at Qui-Gon, he could tell that the man wanted an explanation, but he exuded a calm patience that was reminiscent of Master Yoda. Obi-Wan was grateful for it.

Once he had a bit of food and the rest of the water in his stomach, he found that he both felt better and worse. He looked over at Qui-Gon as he stood and slowly walked back to his seat. The Knight didn’t seem to be paying attention to him, but the light prodding he could feel across their bond told a different story. He did his best to ignore the prodding as he sat down and looked blankly at the control panel.

“Master Jinn, I—ˮ Obi-Wan started, but stopped just as quickly. How could he even begin? He certainly didn’t know. He felt foolish. He felt that he’d overreacted. Worst of all, he _knew_ that it was Qui-Gon’s duty to report what he was about to tell him to the High Council.

“Take your time,” the Knight replied, reaching over to pat the boy on the shoulder. “I won’t rush you.”

Obi-Wan glanced over just in time to meet the Knight’s gaze, and he nodded slightly to express his gratitude. He took a couple of deep breaths before he attempted to speak again.

“I… I don’t really know where I should start. I could just tell you how I got hurt but without context it—ˮ Obi-Wan sighed in frustration. “I don’t just want you to think that I—ˮ

“Shh. Obi-Wan I don’t want you to consider what _I_ will think. Do not consider me as someone who will judge. I’m not on the Council. I just want what’s best for you.”

Obi-Wan gave a loud, sharp laugh before clamping both of his hands over his mouth. He was thankful for the bacta that Qui-Gon had liberally slathered across his neck and the way it helped to numb the area. Even with it, that sudden movement _hurt_. And the laugh had only served to embarrass him further. He felt that gentle prodding across their bond again and he let out a groan of frustration.

“You’re just the same as all the others,” he said once he was sure he could trust himself not to start laughing. It felt like some kind of horrible joke. Of course, the Force would bond him to a man who was fast revealing himself to be possibly worse than any of the others who had already overlooked him. Of course, the library had held holocron after holocron filled with information about Qui-Gon’s many great skills and all the missions he’d successfully completed, but nothing about how kriffing _dense_ he was. “No, you’re _worse_. You tell me to take my time but then you immediately start trying to pry into my thoughts!”

Almost immediately, the prodding stopped and he could feel a thick fog of shame creeping across their bond. Obi-Wan ignored it and continued. “I spent two years trying to learn everything I could about you. I was _so excited_ to get to finally meet you. And you immediately, _immediately_ upon meeting me just cast me aside. You didn’t even try to find out anything about me, did you? You didn’t want to find out if we’d even be compatible. Because the Force probably got it wrong. Because you don’t want an apprentice. You work alone. The great Qui-Gon Jinn, the lone wolf who spent the better part of a decade on Kashyyyk winning the Wookiees’ trust. Surely you don’t have five _kriffing_ minutes to find out one blasted thing about me!

“I spent my entire life trying to stand out, even a _little_. If you stand out you get attention. You get praise. You get favor from the Masters. Even if you never end up with a mark you ensure that you’ll probably get trained. But the only way I’ve ever stood out is this stupid mark! I’m too small, too clumsy, too weak in the Force to make any kind of impression on anyone. So, of course, when this stupid thing showed up on my neck I was excited! Who rejects the will of the Force? Who? Nobody, that’s who! Nobody in more than a _decade!_ I wasn’t even _alive_ the last time a Jedi rejected the will of the Force!” The little Initiate was shouting by this point, and his face was turning red both from ferocity of his shouting and from embarrassment.

“You want to know how I got injured? I did it myself. I was trying to get rid of it,” he said coldly after drawing half a dozen shaky breaths. “I tried to hide it. I didn’t want to get expelled from the Order. But I didn’t want to stare at the reminder that I’m not good enough for even one more minute.”

“Obi-Wan, I…” Qui-Gon’s voice shook slightly as he tried to find the words to say. He opened his mouth to continue to speak many times, but closed it almost as quickly each time. When finally he seemed to have gathered his thoughts into something he could actually say, the navigation console began beeping loudly, interrupting him to alert the two Jedi that they were too close to Coruscant now to keep the autopilot engaged.

“You and I have many things to talk about,” he said once they had finally landed. “But first, I think the Council should hear about your heroism.”

“The C- Council?” Obi-Wan stammered. _Of course. He wants to get it over with._ “Of… Of course. I understand.”

Qui-Gon dug around in his bag for a moment before removing a spare tunic that was easily as long as Obi-Wan was tall. Before the boy could protest, he had crossed the cockpit and removed the young man’s undertunic, which was now stained with blood and pus. He carefully wrapped the Initiate in the tunic, folding it twice at the waist so it wouldn’t fall past his knees. Once Obi-Wan’s belt was secured, the tunic didn’t look like it was more than two sizes too big for him.

“That ought to be enough to appease the Council,” the Knight said after he’d stepped back to take a good look at his work. “And the collar _should_ be tall enough….”

At first, Obi-Wan didn’t understand what he’d heard, but as Qui-Gon turned to gather their bags, his eyes widened. _He- He doesn’t mean to tell the Council what I did to myself?_

He wanted to ask for clarification, but by the time he found his voice again Qui-Gon was heading for the hatch. He couldn’t dare ask about something so sensitive beyond the protective isolation of the ship. Tugging at the collar of the tunic to make sure it was covering as much of his neck as possible, Obi-Wan hurried after the Knight, following him in silence to the High Council Chamber.

 

~~~//~~~//~~~

 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan found themselves waiting for the Council to be able to grant them an audience for nearly an hour. Obi-Wan chose to spend that time staring out the window and hugging his arms tightly to his stomach, afraid that if he let go he might fall apart again. He wanted so badly to ask Qui-Gon so, so many questions. The most pressing of which was _why_? Why had he suddenly decided to help him, even if only by saving him the shame of being expelled from the order for purposely hurting himself?

Why didn’t he want to train him?

By the time the door to the Council Chamber opened, Obi-Wan’s stomach was in knots and he felt as though he might throw up or pass out. Or both. This was it. Qui-Gon was going to demand that they sever the bond now. Would it be painful? Would the Knight regret it?

Would anyone ever want to train him?

“Back so soon, are you? Not much of a training exercise, that was,” Yoda said as they walked into the room. Obi-Wan fidgeted with the collar of his tunic and kept his gaze downward. Though he tried to listen to what Qui-Gon was saying, he found that he couldn’t see the point. He let his mind wander as he stared at the floor, only vaguely aware of what the Knight that stood beside him was saying.

He found he didn’t even want to know how the Knight would phrase it. His affirmation that he would be severing the bond between the two of them. Perhaps if he stared at the floor for long enough he wouldn’t even realize that they’d done it. He would just be alone in his own head again and he wouldn’t feel that odd, gentle prodding on his consciousness again unless someone decided to train him.

He fought to keep his face neutral. He couldn’t allow the Council to see how painful this was for him. Even knowing that they all could feel what he was feeling, he was determined not to show it. He wouldn’t cry, not until he got back to his quarters. He promised that much to himself. Even if Maggy confronted him somewhere in between, he wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t show any emotion. He—

“…and that is why I have decided to take Initiate Kenobi as my Padawan Learner.” Qui-Gon’s words cut through the haze of anxious thoughts swirling through the boy’s mind. He swallowed hard; suddenly his mouth felt as dry as the deserts of Tatooine. Had he heard correctly? He had to know. Trembling, he glanced up to look at the mountain of a man that stood beside him. His eyes widened as he realized that the mountain was staring right back down at him, a slight smile playing on his lips. “That is, if Obi-Wan still wishes for me to train him.”

“Initiate Kenobi?” Master Windu was who spoke this time, and his voice made Obi-Wan jump and subsequently nearly lose his balance. He cringed at his own clumsiness. He hadn’t been expecting this. Surely this was a joke. It had to be. “What do you have to say to that?”

“I—ˮ Obi-Wan hesitated. If this was for real, it was everything he had dreamed of since the mark had shown up on his neck two years prior. If it was a cruel joke, however…

He glanced back over at Qui-Gon as if trying to read his intentions. _Really? You mean it?_

The slight nod Qui-Gon gave in response wasn’t as reassuring as he’d hoped it would be, but at least he didn’t appear to be lying. He turned back to look at Master Windu. “I would be honored i- if—I—ˮ

“A simple yes or no will suffice,” Master Windu said after a few moments longer of the boy stammering as he tried to figure out the appropriate response. The rest of the Council seemed to chuckle, as did Qui-Gon. As did Obi-Wan, relieved that he didn’t have to keep trying.

“Y- Yes!” he said with a laugh, before trying to correct himself and display the proper Jedi decorum.


End file.
